Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Deception Revealed and A Spanking Warning in HIS By Design - Welcome to Saturday Spankings

Hi All,

Its been a while since I've been here on Saturday Spankings.  Its great to be back and offering an eight sentence teaser from my erotic romance HIS By Design.  It 's on a Kindle Countdown Deal all this week at 99 cents so don't miss it! Now at #55 in Top 100 in BDSM!

In this extract, Julian turns up unexpectedly at Claire's office in order to treat her to lunch.  She is out on assignment and returns to see him talking to the new photographer who just happens to be her ex-lover. A fact she has kept from him. Despite her concerns over the potential consequences for her deception, Claire is disappointed when Julian appears not to be at all  jealous. He seems calmly unconcerned, until they leave for lunch together and he makes an apparently casual inquiry about a party they are attending that evening.

     When he spoke again his voice was as even as before,“So the party this evening – sit down dinner or buffet and cocktails?”

    Unbalanced by the apparent change of subject, Claire took a few moments to answer him. “Sit down dinner.”

    “Hmm.  Unfortunate for you, considering you’re going to be sitting on a well strapped bottom,” he told her in a low conversational tone.

    She looked at him then. Despite his easy tone, the steel in his eyes was unmistakable. Gulping, she dropped her gaze guiltily. There was no point in acting like she didn’t know what he was talking about.

Blurb

The year a mutual friend introduces Julian West to Claire Fitzpatrick, they are both grieving the loss of a loved one.  Regardless, it is the start of an enduring friendship. A friendship where both comfortably forget the sizzling attraction that flared between them when they first met. Now, six years on, that attraction has re-emerged and as their romance blossoms, it is not long before he takes her across his knee to deliver lengthier bare bottomed spankings both erotic and disciplinary.  But neither of them is prepared for the deep love they each come to feel, but are unsure the other shares. When Claire's ex-lover reappears on the scene and Claire suspects Julian has never stopped loving his late wife, they must decide if they will go their separate ways or if theirs will be a love designed to last.

                                                                   

N is for Needs -My Day 14 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z and Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks

Welcome to My Day 14 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z
and Saturday Spankings 

is for Needs.    A partner who fufills needs rather than just wishes and desires is a truly gifted lover.  DD and D/s relationships IMHO are about meeting needs. A good disciplinarian/dominant will anticipate the needs of their partner, especially when said partner is struggling to understand their own needs.  My eight sentence teaser today  from Her Keeper explores this. 

Rick has just told Sara that he has arranged for to be taken off the case that has burdened her for months  Much to both their surprise, she is estatically grateful.  Rick tells her that in future he'll put his foot down over her needs regardless.  He also informs her that they are going to make their relationship work because now that he finally has her, he's never letting her go...

"One way or another, we're going to make this work, because there's no way you're ever getting away from me, now.” 

She smiles, but I can see she's thrusting down a jolt of anxiety arising from the determination in my voice and attitude.  I imagine she's wondering if I really mean what I say enough to curtail her freedom.  She has reason to suspect that - ultimately, she knows my ordinary Joe, small town cop persona is an illusion.  I keep to it as much as I can, but in reality, I'm rich and powerful with influential connections.  I've the ability to control her against her wishes.  She has reason to be worried - I've made up my mind that from now on her wishes are not my concern.  

Only her needs are.

                                                    

Scroll down for the extended extract.

Don't forget to visit all the other great blogs

He opens the wine and pours us both a glass.  I join him to sit side by side on the stools, shifting a little in pleasure pain when the cool leather feels hard and yet soothing on the places that I know still bear his handprint.  We each take a sip of wine.  It's velvety smooth and I look forward to how it’ll increase in taste as it breathes.  I'm distracted from my enjoyment of it when he picks up my cell from the counter and looks at me sternly over the rim of his glass.

“So, little girl.  Have you been good?  I trust I'm going to be happy with you when I check this.”

I struggle to smother my stubborn, knee jerk reaction to his dominant mode.  Instead of telling him to fuck off, who does he think he is forbidding me access to my messages, I will my brain to respond to the way that look and tone makes my stomach flip with intense excitement and my pelvis clench in hot desire.  I take another sip of my wine and nod with clear eyes.  He takes me at my word and puts down the phone without checking it.

“Good.  After dinner, I'll erase every single message from Gencor or any to do with their case.  You never have to look at them or worry about them again.  I sorted it out with Jim and you're off the case, no hard feelings.”

My spontaneous response to this announcement shocks us both.  I put my glass down and launch myself into his arms flooded with a gratitude that astonishes me.  “Oh, Rick.  Thank you!  Thank you!  I'm so glad to never, ever have to think about them again.”

***

Stunned by Sara’s reaction, I perform a miraculous juggling act, just managing to avoid soaking us both with my wine.  Putting my glass down, I lift her chin to give her a hard, fast kiss and then hold her fiercely against my chest.  My voice is just as fierce.  “Damn it!  I knew it!  I should've put my foot down over this months ago.”  I stroke her hair, my voice only a little less forceful.  “From now on, I'll do exactly that when necessary.  I'll go with my gut over your needs and there will be no nonsense from you over it!”

I can tell she stifles a smile at my outburst, but makes no protest.  Probably still too euphoric at the removal of the burden she's been dragging around for almost half a year.  I tighten my hold and continue, frustrated with myself.  “I should've paid more attention!  I let your stubbornness infuriate me when I should've seen past it and sorted this out for you sooner.  My version of your knee jerk response, I guess.”  I hold her away from me and look down at her with rueful tenderness.  “I’ll work on adjusting that too, sweetheart.  I promise.”

She plays with the buttons on my shirt and shifts her gaze to them.  Her tone holds excitement at my admission, her words tumbling out in a rush.  “Oh, Rick.  I'm so glad you said that.  I'm so glad to know that just because you're dominant you don’t consider yourself all-knowing in the relationship.  That you're still willing to take on responsibility for failings and are prepared to make adjustments?”

I sit back and look at her askance and ask her with a hint of irritation.  “Sara.  What crap have you been reading or who have you been talking to?  Think of my comments after I spanked you for boasting about your sexual experience.  I accepted responsibility then, as well, instead of punishing you further for challenging me, didn’t I?  I’m dominant, not God Almighty.”

She grins.  “Really?  You mean you know you're actually not omnipotent?”  She laughs and then squeals when I playfully pinch her ass in retribution.  She gives me a molten, teasing pout, making a show of rubbing her cute bottom in mock pain, accusing me sexily.  “Brute!”

She pauses and then her voice takes on a serious note as she returns to my earlier comments.  “You can’t blame yourself, Rick.  How could you know how much I wanted off this case?  I didn’t even know myself until just now when you told me I was free of it.”  I can see the relief flood her again as she says it.

I cup her jaw and speak to her in a soft tone.  “That’s the point, sweetheart.  That's one of the main responsibilities of 24/7 dominance.  It’s my job to anticipate your needs, to know what’s good for you, especially when you don’t.”

She gulps and looks at me a bit awestruck.  “Oh.  I’d never have interpreted a D/s relationship that way.”

I grin this time.  “Why, Sara?  What do you see?  An arrogant jackass, strutting about in leather, throwing his weight around and demanding you kneel to him?”  She blushes and looks down and I know I'm not far from the mark.

“Maybe.”  She admits with awe still in her voice.  “At least, I never for a moment thought it might include caring for my needs in that way.  Taking on that much responsibility for me and my welfare.”  I stay silent letting her new perspective sink in.  She's quiet for a moment and then makes a point of reassuring me.  “Well, we weren’t in a relationship then, so you can’t hold yourself accountable.”

“Mmm, maybe.”  I murmur.  Stroking her jaw, softly, I ask.  “We weren’t in a relationship, then.  Does that mean you accept we're in a relationship, now?”

My heart is in my mouth waiting for her response to my question.  The moment of truth.  She takes her eyes from the buttons of my shirt and looks up at me.  “I guess.  It's just...  I'm not sure, Rick.  There are things that still bother me.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.  Not that her answer would have any effect on the ultimate outcome, but I'd rather she surrendered willingly.  “Of course there are.  We're not suddenly going to slip into this with plain sailing.  We need to adjust to each other.  Discuss things.  But don’t worry, little girl.  One way or another, we're going to make this work, because there's no way you're ever getting away from me, now.”

She smiles, but I can see she's thrusting down a jolt of anxiety arising from the determination in my voice and attitude.  I imagine she's wondering if I really mean what I say enough to curtail her freedom.  She has reason to suspect that.  Ultimately, she knows my ordinary Joe, small town cop persona is an illusion.  I keep to it as much as I can, but in reality, I'm rich and powerful with influential connections.  I've the ability to control her against her wishes.  She has reason to be worried.  I've made up my mind that from now on her wishes are not my concern.  Only her needs are. 

I may be willing to admit to failings and make adjustments, but that doesn’t include letting her go.  I'm now utterly convinced she needs me and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her with me under my dominance and control.


                                            

M is for #MasturbationMonday - Watch this space! My Day 13 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z

is for
Masturbation 
Monday

Welcome to My Day 13 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z

My scene today is from Intimate Knowledge 1. Released in multiple volumes it is an ongoing e-serial.  Leo Gold, cultured, half-Italian heir apparent to the nefarious Boston, Gold crime family, has no idea Raisa Gordon is a vice detective when he falls for her. The FBI use the opportunity to place her undercover as romantic bait to infiltrate the Gold operation. Trouble is Raisa finds him impossible to resist, especially as he has an uncanny understanding of her long hidden, dark need for domination and discipline. In this scene Leo has just informed her in graphic details of his intentions towards her.  Outwardly managing to keep her cool she makes her escape to cope with the overwhelming desire he arouses in her: 

I maintain my bland expression, but my body and inner turmoil threaten to betray me big time.  I need to get away from his blatant magnetism.  Breaking his stare with a blink, I make my escape by using every woman’s natural refuge.  With a muttered excuse, I head to the john.  Walking slowly at first, I practically break into a run once I am out of his sight.

It’s Leo.  Get used to saying it.  To the feel of it on your tongue.

How could he manage to make the simple practice of saying his name seem so shatteringly erotic?  I feel weak as I surrender to the chemistry I managed to resist in the gallery.  Turning on the tap, I run cold water over my wrists.  My pulse and breathing gradually achieve normality as I lay my forehead against the mirror.  I give myself a long, hard, appraising look.  My cheeks are flushed, my breasts are moving in little heaves, my eyes are aglow.  Even worse, what the mirror fails to reveal are my clenched pelvis and wet pussy. 

This cannot keep up, Raisa girl.  You need some serious intervention here.  Yeah, intervention.  Exactly!  I look around.  The room is deserted.  Although I know we're the only visitors to the gallery this afternoon, the taboo nature of my intention makes me check the cubicles just to be sure.  I settle myself in the small seating area.  The chair I choose faces a mirror that reflects the door so I'll know if I'm in danger of interruption in the midst of my guilty pleasure.

It shouldn’t take too long.  His image has always managed to bring me off in a matter of minutes.  Now I'm familiar with the real thing it should be even faster.  I usually have my vibrator to help the process, but with my state of high arousal since this morning, along with his slick brand of mind fuckery out there in the gallery, I reckon my hands will do just fine.  Unzipping and slipping my fingers down into my jeans, I swipe along my panties.  They're soaked.  I gasp as my fingers brush against my wet, engorged clit.  Sweet Jesus, I'm so primed.

Lying back, I sink into the luxury of remembering the magnificent view of him this morning.  His tanned, oiled torso.  The rippling muscles, tight abs and pecs.  His shirt stretching across his shoulders as he gulped down that beer with a primal growl.  I press on my clit, rotating my hips.  He had to have been rock hard when he saw me.  I imagine him grinding that hardness cruelly against me and I arch into him.  I remember the look on his face that told me how much he wanted me.  I follow that through in my mind coupling it with the heat of his declaration at the exhibit.  He picks me up and carries me off, throwing me on his bed.

My imagining breaks down a bit here, as I've no picture in my mind for his bedroom.  I switch the scene to his study as he thrusts me down to sink into the leather of his two-seater.  I can almost smell the leather and feel his hard cock grind against my clit.  Oh God, yes, yes.  That’s good, so good.  I thrust my hand down into my panties, applying deep, long fast strokes to my labia and clit.  I turn to my side picturing him behind me on the chair spooned against my body, his hand down my panties, stroking firm and fast, his long fingers pinching, pressing and circling.  His voice and tongue are hot in my ear.

My name, cara…you will be moaning it and screaming it when I'm thrusting deep inside you.

“Leo.”  It is wrung out of me along with the shattering orgasm.  “Leo.”  I gasp it and collapse, my breath coming in heaves.  Oh my God, that was f***ing kickass.  I lie back against the chair with my eyes closed and let the spasms leave me and do their sweet work.  At least now, I won’t be so sexually wound up around him.  Or such a wimp around his disarming charisma.

As the afterglow sweeps over me, unbidden sensations steal in.  I feel his arms supporting me, stopping me from falling, his voice in my ear.  “Careful, Raisa, it’s a very, long way down.”  The heat of his body behind me, the support of his arms.  “You’re safe, cara.  Relax.  I have you.”

I shiver at the memory and then it merges into desire.  His arms hold me close in the afterglow, his rich voice thick with intimacy.  ….the feel of my name on your tongue. 

His long fingers capture my cheek and chin as he turns my head up to meet his lips and kiss me possessively. 

Only it's no longer in my head.  NO.  No.  Noo! 

My eyes fly open and I look across to the mirror, my heart pounding at his touch, his startling materialization standing behind me shocking me out of my daydream.  F**k!  Where did he come from?  Immersed in my pleasure he must've entered without my hearing. 

Please, please don't let it be that he came in when I was coming.  Please let it be that he only saw the very end of my self-help scenario.  Please do not let him have witnessed my pathetic girly abandon to orgasmic delight over him.

The heat in his eyes doesn’t leave me much hope and I decide attack is the surest form of defense.  I sit up, zip my jeans and pull away from his touch sending him an accusing look in the mirror.  No way can I turn to face him.

“What're you doing?  This's the ladies’ room.  You can’t just walk in here and creep up on me.”

Placing a hand on either side of me on the back of the chair, his reflection gives me a knowing look as he tells me in a sensual tone.  “Oh I think I can when I hear a certain lady calling my name.”  He pauses and gives me another heated look in the mirror before adding.  “Twice”  

He is courteous enough not to add ‘while climaxing’ or ‘in rapture’.  His hungry expression is not as well mannered.  It makes it clear to us both that he knows his name was drawn from me in the heat of orgasm.

I want to bury my face in my hands and sink into the floor.  This has to be one of my worst nightmares.  Caught out masturbating by the subject of my desire is beyond humiliating.  So why does my body find it seriously hot?  So much for my plan to intervene and halt, or at least slow down my libido.  My pussy is pulsing and moisture is pooling around the entrance to my womb just as copiously as before.  I fail to answer him and avoid his gaze.

He eases me back against the chair and bends to whispers in my ear with a hot hunger in his voice.  “It excites me to know you can follow my instructions so well and so immediately, il mio tesoro.”  He turns my face towards him and I see his excitement in the dilation of his pupils, the smoky gold flecks almost disappearing in the blaze of his lust.

A heat very different from embarrassment flows through me at the blatant evidence of his need for me and his use of the Italian endearment.  What woman wouldn’t melt when the man of her dreams calls her his treasure? 

 A detective on an undercover mission that is who! 

I try desperately to salvage my sense of duty and struggle to use my mechanism, but it is no use, I am too far-gone, still too deeply taken by the afterglow and his hot tender touch and voice.  I turn my face back and just stare stupidly at him in the mirror.

He emits a satisfied growl and my stomach flips when he encircles my waist with one arm to pull me up out of the seat and hold me with my back, and buttocks hot against him.  I squeak in fright and surprise as he has me facing the wall in two powerful strides.  He lets me slide sensuously down from him to slowly ease, tortuously, over his hard erection to stand on shaky legs.  His hands travel up from my waist in one accord as I slide down and he imprisons my upper arms and raises them to lay my hands flat on the wall in a captive pose.  His palms cover my hands on either side, easily engulfing them.

The heat of his body flows into me and his hot breath is above me as he nuzzles into my hair.  “You can’t deny your feelings after this, Raisa.” 

The honeyed caress in the way he says my name is more tempting than any endearment and I moan and melt back into him for just a moment before I regain my senses. 

“Admit it.”  He insists gently.

I take a deep breath and struggle to curb the emotion rampant in me at this hugely erotic position and the confident passion in his voice.  He waits patiently as I try to outlast him, the sound of both our breathing pounding in my ears, the feel of his heartbeat pulsing in unison with mine against my back.  Finally, I can take it no more and I come clean in a strangled whisper.

“Okay, I admit it!  But just because I feel this way doesn’t mean I want these sensations or intend to act on them.”  I strive to inflect some disdain into my tone.  “Why do you think I am in here, playing with myself?”

“Because you are a coward, cara mia!”  He chastises me fiercely.

The twisted truth in his low-drawled assertion punches me in the gut and I push back against him and turn, making a play to get away from him.  He stops me, his arms caging me, his strong, muscular leg thrusting between my reluctant thighs.  His body is so close on mine, his heat pulses through me in waves.  Gliding his long fingers under my nape, he softly seizes my braid in an erotic claiming that alluringly commands me.

“Yield to me, Raisa.”

It is an order, but it is a seductive one, his voice a caress in my ear, his teeth gently nibbling, easing a sweet fire through my entire body.  His lips are on my throat, his tongue trailing lightly along my collarbone.  The sizzling sensations make me light-headed and my will to resist ebbs quietly away.  I have never felt this way in a man’s arms, never wanted to surrender so totally.  I tilt my chin up towards him, offering my lips.

He draws in his breath swiftly at my unexpected submission and murmurs tortuously.  “Raisa, sweet.  You won’t be sorry.” 

I expect him to take my lips hungrily, but he draws the moment out continuing to trail leisurely along my collarbone up my throat to the curve of my jaw, lightly tracing the outline of my mouth, slipping in so gently the swirl of his tongue mixing with mine is feather light. 

His hands mirror this slow sensuality, discovering my body in a sweet symmetry from neck to hip, before sliding a hand under the curve of each buttock to draw me close against him down along his thigh.  He moves in a slow, undulating cadence so I ride him, the friction of his hard muscles against the seam of my jeans setting my pussy afire with a slow, burning heat. 

He eases out of my mouth, turning his attention to my ear, while gliding his hand slowly up to clasp my breast and tease my nipple.  All this feels so fine, I can’t stop myself from voicing my satisfaction in a sexy moaning of his name.  “Mmm, oh, Leo.”

“Mmm.  For me too, cara.”  Burying his face in my hair, he moves lower to inhale and lave his tongue along my cleavage.  “You smell and taste intoxicating.”  I can almost see his erotic, teasing smile as he whispers in a subtly, chiding murmur.  “Kissing.”  He nips kisses along my throat, thrusting and swirling his tongue inside when he reaches my moist mouth.  “Inhaling…”  He nuzzles my neck and takes in a long draught of my scent.  “Tasting…”  He bends back my throat nibbling, licking in soft little bites.  “Embracing…”  His arms pull me close, his hands possessively encircling my nape and waist.  “None of these pleasures are possible by yourself, teserino.”

As if to test the truth of his words, I indulge my own senses in the scent and feel of him.  The strength of his hard muscles under my hands causes my body to yield even more and I am glad of his strong thigh hot against my pussy supporting me.  My arousal is so potent I wonder if my juices have soaked through my jeans.  He smells of a mixture of woodsy cologne and primal musk.  Taking a soft nip at the opening of his shirt, I take pleasure in the bite of his salty, masculine taste.

Kissing me deeply, his hands cover and massage both my breasts in a gentle rhythm that keeps pace with the cadence of his thigh.  I cannot deny his tender claim on me.  A feeling of inevitability creeps over me, as I fear I am slipping into an inescapable world of his making.

Suddenly he hardens his assault on my senses.  Clutching me fiercely, he drops his leg and lifts me by my ass to grind solidly against his stiff erection.  Seizing my braid in a powerful grasp, he plunges his tongue forcefully into my yielding mouth.  This rollercoaster possession is breathtaking.  An exciting sweep of adrenaline crashes through me along with a potent thrill at the mastery of his skill.  He roughly kneads my ass with one hand, rhythmically lifting me even higher to fit his rigid cock tightly against my hungry clit.  My breath comes in pants and gasps and I cry out as he hauls my leg up around his upper hip, driving me hard against the wall.

His roughness acts like a drug liberating my inhibitions in a fiery haze and I shamelessly meet his thrusts desperate for the feel of him against me.  The wildness of my response pushes him further, his hands at my clothing practically rip my shirt open to unclasp the front of my bra and take my nipples hard in his mouth.  Thrusting lower he unzips my jeans and fits his long fingers down inside to rub against my sopping wet pussy. 

Moaning, captured by devouring need, all thoughts of duty or fear are eradicated by lust.  In this moment, I know that he could take me up against the wall anyway, anyhow and I would have no will to stop him.  From deep inside, the craving for him to take me now, ending any obligation to resist almost spirals out of control.  It is all I can do to keep from crying out my crude, demanding need.

Thank God, the traitorous cry stays inside me.  I hear his voice gruff with a lust as strong as mine offering a softer solution to my need.  “Raisa, you’re so wet, you’re dripping like honey.  I need to make you come, cara.  You need it.” 

I feel his fingers sweep against my bare flesh setting me alight, spreading my juices along my labia and clit, pinching and plumping.  I cry out and feel myself sliding slowly down the wall.  The world tilts as he lifts me, cradling me with his chest hot against my back, his hand still inside my jeans cupping my mound.  Crossing to the chair, he settles me in his lap, facing me away from him, spreading me wide, increasing his pressure on my clit, working my juices all over my pussy lips.  I curl into him and bite my lip to stop from begging him to thrust his fingers, hell, his whole fist deep inside me.  I just want him to fill me.  I arch and moan lewdly on his lap.

I feel his deep laugh vibrate through me, his voice muffled in my hair.  “So different, Raisa.  So cool before and now so hot.  It excites me, you are so volatile.  I am looking forward to fucking you in many ways, in many moods.”

His takes my chin and turns my lips up to meet his just as he did when he first kissed me.  Possessing my mouth cruelly, he starts working his magic on my nub.  Desperate as I was before to have him fill me, now his compelling strokes on my clit center my heat and arousal on my erect, jutting, little core.  Stroke follows deep, fiery stroke and soon my whole existence descends onto that one swollen, pulsing point. 

“Open your eyes, Raisa.  Look.  Look at us together.  I want you to see yourself in my arms when I pleasure you.  To gaze into your eyes when you orgasm.”

I resist at first.  I am a strictly bonk in the dark kinda girl, but his undulating accent is too persuasive and I am afraid he may stop, so I sneak a look through my lashes.  Responding to the view in the mirror with a gasp, my eyes fly wide open.  I marvel at the sight of him as he plays me expertly, keeping his attentions to my body at a level that allows me to ride a long, slow, crescending wave of pleasure towards my climax.  I am arched against him, my head flung back, one arm encircling his neck, the other clutching and pushing at his thigh in a rhythmic mirroring of his possession of the responsive, fleshy spot between my rolling, surging hips. 

The sight of me in the mirror abandoned in his arms is such a turn on, I peak and, with a soft, keening cry, watch this wanton woman, I hardly recognize, come apart cradled against him.  He pulls me in tighter and through my orgasmic mist, a sinister fear steals through me.  His glittering, gold-flecked stare captures mine, promising the inevitable infiltration of my sealed, guarded, dark places. 

Turning me towards him, he cradles me in his lap curling me into his chest.  The scent and heat of him fills me, his words surrounding me in heavy, ragged breaths.  “You are mine, now, Raisa. 

Check out the other sexy post on other blogs for #MasurbationMonday

http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-week-42/

                                           

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