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Tied Desire by Megan Slayer ~ Book 1 in the Club Desire series ~ Out Now!

ImageTied Desire by Megan Slayer

Club Desire Book 1

M/M, Anal Sex, Toys, Spanking, BDSM

Novella

Resplendence Publishing

 

Get your rocks off however you want at Club Desire. We’re not easy and we’re not free, but we are discreet. Find your fantasy in the club.

            Ford Gehrig likes everything hard—his racing and his sex life. His career driving stock trucks is riding high. He’s a top performing rookie. Club Desire fulfills his needs for pain in his pleasure. But even a strong man has his breaking point. His wounds run deep and won’t be easy to overcome. Will the club be his salvation or his downfall?

Master Zane knows the rough side of the club well. He’s been at Desire longer than many of the Doms. Few subs turn his head like Ford. He wants the hot blond on his table, against his cross and in his bed. Nothing at the club comes easily, but Zane’s not one to give up. Will he be able to pierce the protective walls around Ford’s heart, or will his own past be the barrier he can’t destroy?

Only time, some cuffs and a few spankings will tell if this tied desire is meant to last.

An AllRomance Ebooks #1 Bestseller!

Available here: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/639-978-1-60735-740-7–tied-desire-club-desire-series-book-one-by-megan-slayer.html

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IMOTVAQ/

AllRomance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tieddesire-1447767-147.html

EXCERPT:

“Stand. I want you to sit on the couch with me.” Zane offered his hand.

Albeit tentatively, Ford cooperated. He rose and followed the Master to the oversized leather sofa. For the first time since he’d entered Zane’s private space, he glanced around. Instead of the stark look of T’s room, this one was decorated in rich burgundys and navys. A couple floor lamps provided light. The standard bondage bed and a mattress on a platform completed the otherwise lush look.

“We need to talk. Please sit.” Zane’s words forced Ford to look at him. “Were you happy with T?”

Ford eased down beside Zane, not touching the larger man. Should he answer honestly? Might as well. “I enjoyed our time together.”

But I’d rather he’d have been you. Oh shit. He couldn’t admit that.

Ford allowed himself to ogle Zane. Full muscle in every part of his body, his arms were both sleeved in tattoos and a thick leather X crisscrossed his sculpted chest. A barbell decorated his right nipple. His leather pants molded around his strong legs.

For the first time since Ford had come to Desire, he looked Zane in the face. Scruff darkened his thin cheeks and dark lashes ringed his eyes. His black hair stood in spikes and twin earrings dangled from his left ear. He didn’t have telltale smile lines around his mouth. Didn’t the man grin at anything? Ford doubted Zane could be sad with all of the sexy men and women at his disposal.

Zane’s brown eyes narrowed, and the crinkles formed at his brow. “Somehow, I don’t believe you enjoyed being with T.”  He trailed his fingers down Ford’s cheek. “He claims you get off on name calling and degradation. I don’t buy that. I can see you getting off on the power shift, but not the other. You seem too timid—in a good way—for that harsh of treatment.”

Ford pressed his lips together to keep from gawking. In less than a minute, Zane had read him well. “You’re correct, Sir.”

“I want to start there. I’ve watched you in action. I know what you like and don’t like, but I want to hear you tell me your boundaries.”

“No needles or blood. I’m squeamish. Don’t choke me or abuse me. I can take pain, and I’ll use my safe word when I get to my limits.” Ford held his head high. “I enjoy the paddle, being restrained and sucking cock.”

“Very good.” Zane curled his fingers beneath Ford’s chin. “What’s your safe word?”

“Biscuit, Sir.”

“Nice.” Zane nodded. “Since T has seen fit to toss you back into the submissive pool, I’m stepping in. You’re mine. Do you wish to play?”

All of Ford’s desires and fantasies were coming true. Sure, he hadn’t wanted to part with T, but if he could spend time with Zane, then perfect. Ford wished he’d worn appropriate clothing for a scene, but who cared. He didn’t. Time to channel his sorrow into something sexy.

Ford placed the still full beer bottle on the floor, folded his hands and bowed his head. “Yes, Sir. I’d like to play.”

©Megan Slayer 2014

 * * * * * 

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite–on command.

She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press, Decadent Publishing , Liquid Silver Books, MLR Press, Resplendence Publishing, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s site: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

Megan’s blog: http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com

Megan on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/meganslayer

Megan on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5330530.Megan_Slayer

Megan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

Megan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer

AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MeganSlayer

Newsletter sign up:  http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj 

Bases Loaded ~ Book 2 in the Club Desire Series by Megan Slayer ~ out now!

ImageBases Loaded by Megan Slayer

Club Desire Series, Book Two

M/M, Anal Sex, M/M/M, Menage, Double Penetration, Toys, Spanking, BDSM, Voyeurism

Novella

Resplendence Publishing

 

Get your rocks off however you want at Club Desire. We’re not easy and we’re not free, but we
are discreet. Find your fantasy in the Club.

 

Mix one lanky shortstop with two brawny Doms and what do you get? A white hot good time.

 

On the baseball field, shortstop Rocke Houseman commands the crowd. They cheer as he makes plays and hits home runs. He loves his job in professional sports, but there’s something missing. He wants to be true to himself. When he tears up his knees during a critical play, his whole life is thrown into chaos. He turns to the one place he knows to find balance—Club Desire.

 

Carson and Jeremiah are a packaged deal. You deal with one, you deal with both. When the gutsy sub comes into Desire and wants a Dom, they step in to help him out. Rocke fits their bill—he’s athletic and lanky, but knows how to take direction. Can they help him work out his issues one ménage at a time? Or will the passion exploding amongst them be the final out?

 

An AllRomance Ebooks Bestseller!

 

Available here:

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/647-978-1-60735-748-3–bases-loaded-club-desire-series-book-two-by-megan-slayer.html

 

EXCERPT:

 

©Megan Slayer 2014

The two men—he wasn’t sure who was Jeremiah and who was Carson—took him down a long hallway to a room. When the taller one opened the door, bright white light spilled into the darkened corridor.

“This is our room. First we talk then we play. Do you think you’re able to keep up with us?” The shorter of the two men leveled his gaze at Rocke. He stood only about an inch shorter than Rocke’s six foot frame. His jaw flexed as he stared at Rocke, and a tiny bit of scruff glimmered on his cheeks.

At this point, Rocke didn’t have anything to lose. He’d been pushed away by all but the last two Doms in the building. Rocke sighed and dipped his head. “I’d like to play.”

“Very well.” The taller one ushered him into the room. Unlike the other rooms, this particular room more resembled a bedroom. No BDSM bed or bar contraptions. There was just a plain bed with white sheets. Thick carpet muffled their footsteps as the Doms led him to a leather couch and armchair. The room reminded him more of an apartment than a play place.

“Before we get down to business, my name is Carson.” The taller one extended his hand. “This is my partner, Jeremiah. We’ve been together for eight years. We don’t take many subs, and when we do, it’s only one at a time. You are Rocke Houseman, correct? Sit.”

Something in Carson’s voice made Rocke want to comply. He debated sitting on the chair but only for a moment. This was a test—had to be. He knelt on the floor at their feet and bowed his head. Fuck. His knee screamed with pain, but he ignored the hurt. He’d never get better if he kept giving in to his injury.

“Very good but we don’t want you on the floor. Sit in the chair.” Carson perched on the edge of the sofa, and Jeremiah stood behind him with his arms folded. Where Jeremiah seemed to be covered in sleeves of tattoos, Carson was all pristine muscle. Carson leaned forward. “We could read the tablet and find out what your boundaries are, but we’d rather hear them from you.”

Rocke’s gaze vacillated between the two men. Most Doms didn’t want to talk. They read the dossier and went right into play. Rocke wobbled to his feet, careful not to wrench his knee, then sat on the armchair. The shards of pain subsided, and he laced his fingers together. Hopefully, Carson and Jeremiah hadn’t seen him wince.

“Go on,” Jeremiah prompted. The harness he wore bit into his muscled chest.

“I’m not a heavy player in the BDSM world. I’ve never tried most things. No inclination to.” Rocke shrugged. “My biggest kink is threesomes. I like a dick in my mouth and one in my ass. You can use a cock ring, cock cage, handcuff me, nipple clips or spank my ass red…I’m game. But no permanent marks. I can’t have anything that’ll show in the locker room.”

“Why?” Carson prompted.

Rocke shifted in his seat. The leather creaked beneath him. They’d find out sooner or later—don’t leave marks if you don’t want to have to explain them to everyone in detail. The locker room was worse than a newsroom. They had to know everything. But he needed to trust Carson and Jeremiah. Something about the pair made him want to take a chance. They didn’t seem like others in his past who’d wanted to exploit his waning celebrity status.

“I’m a professional baseball player. I’m the shortstop for the Falcons. Eight years with a .285 batting average—well, until I blew out my knee. ACL injury three games from the playoffs and we’re in first place in our division. Sucked.” Rocke groaned. He’d given away a lot of info.

“We saw that play. You’re lucky to be standing without crutches.” Jeremiah rounded the sofa and sat beside his partner. “And you still got the double play.”

“I did.” The tips of his ears burned. They’d seen him on the field? “I have to ask—who’s your favorite team?”

“Grizzlies,” Carson replied. “The team that took you out.”

“Ah.” Maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea. Rocke sank down in his seat. “They’re a formidable team. I wish I hadn’t gotten cocky.”

“You had to. It’s who you are.” Carson rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb. “Who was your Dom before? We noticed you took a shine to Zane.”

“Everyone here.” Rocke snorted. The harder he’d tried to please a Dom, the faster he pushed them away. “You’ve probably heard all about me. I’m difficult.”

“How so?” Jeremiah reclined on the sofa and draped his arms across the back. “Details.”

Did they want to shame him? Jesus. “I like to talk. I don’t want to be demeaned. I’m not wild about wax and shit on my body.” His voice cracked, and the fury deep within him came to a head. “I want to be tied up and fucked. Use me like the God damn media does.”

He’d lost his temper. Fuck.

He couldn’t breathe. Rocke rested his head in his hands. “Sorry. I’m good at following orders, but I tend to top from the bottom. I’m hard to control, I guess.” They’d boot him just like the others. He might as well get up and leave…once his knee decided to cooperate. He closed his eyes and focused on controlling the pain in his soul. If he pushed the searing hurt deep, it wouldn’t bother him.

“Hard to control is in the eye of the beholder.” Carson placed his hand on Rocke’s thigh. “You may be one of the more challenging subs, but it’s not a death sentence. It simply means you haven’t found the right Doms—until now.”

  * * * * * 

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite–on command.

She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press, Decadent Publishing , Liquid Silver Books, MLR Press, Resplendence Publishing, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s site: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

Megan’s blog: http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com

Megan on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/meganslayer

Megan on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5330530.Megan_Slayer

Megan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

Megan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer

AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MeganSlayer

Newsletter sign up:  http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj 

 

 

All on the Field ~ Club Desire, book 3 by Megan Slayer ~ out now!

 Image

All on the Field by Megan Slayer

Club Desire, Book 3

M/M, Anal Sex, Toys, Spanking, BDSM

Novella

Resplendence Publishing

 

Get your rocks off however you want at Club Desire. We’re not easy and we’re not free, but we are discreet. Find your fantasy in the Club.

Coming clean and accepting what you want has never been this sexy.

Jordan Brody commands the landscape on the football field. His punt returns are legendary. What’s not so legendary? His sexuality. The hulking football player likes to be spanked and dominated, but he’s not comfortable explaining his needs—until he visits Club Desire. The visit just might signal the game changer he’s been looking for.

Simon Blue knows how to dominate and how to read people. The moment he sees the sexy football player, he’s transfixed. Taking on a sub isn’t in his game plan, but there’s something about Jordan that calls to Simon’s soul. He’s convinced that a little spanking, some rope and a lot of patience will help Jordan seek the peace he desires—if he can convince Jordan to trust and submit.

Will these two wounded souls charge down the field in the ultimate score or fumble before the game begins?

 

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/655-978-1-60735-756-8–all-on-the-field-club-desire-series-book-three-by-megan-slayer.html

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-allonthefieldclubdesireseriesbookthree-1477072-147.html

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/All-On-Field-Megan-Slayer-ebook/dp/B00JKT2KWI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1397134230&sr=8-1&keywords=megan+slayer+all+on+the+field

 

EXCERPT:

©Megan Slayer, 2014

Article by article of clothing, Jordan stripped himself bare. Being naked didn’t bother him. The locker room afforded no privacy. After a win, the guys routinely slapped each other on the ass, back and chest in congratulations. After a loss? The rookies tended to bear the brunt of the frustration and anger. Anyone with less than two years in the league was hazed by the older players. Jordan had been with the Wild Cats for five years and had never participated in the hazing, but he’d been on the receiving end a couple of times. He’d had his locker stuffed with soiled uniforms, his belongings hidden from him and the inside of his locker plastered with pictures of naked women.

He’d laughed and brushed off the incidents, knowing he’d gotten off easy. The taunts lobbed at the rookies could be harsh. Sometimes there were scuffles. He’d kept his head down and focused on his football career.

But he wasn’t at the practice complex. He was in the middle of the club with Simon. No one would be making fun of him here.

Jordan folded his clothing and placed the garments in a neat pile on one end of the couch. He sat on the cushion. What was he supposed to do while he waited until Simon returned? The chilly air in the room wrapped around his body, and his balls tightened. His nipples hardened, and he fought off the desire to touch himself. Simon hadn’t said a word about masturbating.

Anticipation slid through his veins. He’d never been with a Dom before, but from what he’d seen in porno movies and what he’d heard from Rocke, a Dom wasn’t a bad thing. The man in charge would demand the events of the evening were on his terms.

Jordan could handle taking orders. But for how long? When would his sense of pride enter and scream to take over? When would he realize he was being a pansy by letting another man spank him?

Shit. He hated when the dark thoughts entered his mind.

Behind him, the door creaked. Jordan bowed his head. Did Simon expect him to show respect that way? Or should he drop to the floor on his knees? Was Simon even behind him?

“You’re quite colorful.” Simon placed his hand on Jordan’s back. His breath warmed Jordan’s skin. “Soon, I’ll have you explain each marking.”

Oh? He’d never told anyone about the art—not all of it. Even his tattoo artist didn’t know the meaning of many of the images.

Simon stroked his fingers up and down Jordan’s spine. “Interesting.” He strolled around Jordan, giving Jordan a chance to look at him again. Instead of the tight black T-shirt, Simon wore a black tank top. He crouched in front of Jordan.

“I can see the wheels turning in your mind. You’re not sure what’s about to go down. You’re keeping yourself guarded in case you do something you believe is stupid.” He curled his fingers under Jordan’s chin, forcing him to look Simon in the eye. “When we play, I have rules. Rule one is no secrets. Tell me everything. If something feels good, bad, hurts, makes you mad, whatever, you tell me.”

“Yes, sir.” Was he supposed to call Simon by his name or sir?

“Rule two is how you will address me. In a scene, you will call me S. Out of a scene, you may use my name.”

“Yes, S.”

“Good boy.”

Boy?

“Rule three is the boundaries. I will abide by your boundaries, but I reserve the right to push you when I feel you’re ready. I am here to make you happy and give you the release you desire.”

“Yes, S.”

“Rule number four concerns trust. I need your total trust. I respect you and will do my best to give you what you need. You must trust me that if I push, I’m doing it for a reason, not out of some perverse pleasure. You control what we do and when. Understand?”

“Yes, S.” Actually, he wasn’t sure he got what Simon meant. He’d been under the impression that the Dom ran the show. According to what Simon had said, the control was more or less in Jordan’s hands.

“You don’t look convinced.” Simon swiped his thumb across Jordan’s bottom lip. “If you use your safe word, we’ll stop. I respect you and your wishes. If you can handle offering up your control to me, I offer up mine to you, as well.”

“Thank you, S.” Jordan shivered. At least, he’d found a man who wanted to play equal. “What’s my safe word?”

“String bean.” A smile twitched on Simon’s lips. “Do you wish to back out?”

“Not a chance.” Hell, being under Simon’s care seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “I accept, and I’m grateful. Thank you, S.”

“Now, we’ll begin.”

 * * * * *

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite–on command.

She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press, Decadent Publishing , Liquid Silver Books, MLR Press, Resplendence Publishing, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s site: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

Megan’s blog: http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com

Megan on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/meganslayer

Megan on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5330530.Megan_Slayer

Megan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

Megan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer

AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MeganSlayer

Newsletter sign up:  http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj 

 

 

Bases Loaded ~ A New Club Desire book from Megan Slayer

Image

Bases Loaded by Megan Slayer  

Club Desire Series, Book Two

M/M, Anal Sex, M/M/M, Menage, Double Penetration, Toys, Spanking, BDSM, Voyeurism

Novella

Resplendence Publishing

 

Get your rocks off however you want at Club Desire. We’re not easy and we’re not free, but we
are discreet. Find your fantasy in the Club.

 

Mix one lanky shortstop with two brawny Doms and what do you get? A white hot good time.

On the baseball field, shortstop Rocke Houseman commands the crowd. They cheer as he makes plays and hits home runs. He loves his job in professional sports, but there’s something missing. He wants to be true to himself. When he tears up his knees during a critical play, his whole life is thrown into chaos. He turns to the one place he knows to find balance—Club Desire.

Carson and Jeremiah are a packaged deal. You deal with one, you deal with both. When the gutsy sub comes into Desire and wants a Dom, they step in to help him out. Rocke fits their bill—he’s athletic and lanky, but knows how to take direction. Can they help him work out his issues one ménage at a time? Or will the passion exploding amongst them be the final out?

 

Available here:

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/647-978-1-60735-748-3–bases-loaded-club-desire-series-book-two-by-megan-slayer.html

 

EXCERPT:

 

©Megan Slayer 2014

The two men—he wasn’t sure who was Jeremiah and who was Carson—took him down a long hallway to a room. When the taller one opened the door, bright white light spilled into the darkened corridor.

“This is our room. First we talk then we play. Do you think you’re able to keep up with us?” The shorter of the two men leveled his gaze at Rocke. He stood only about an inch shorter than Rocke’s six foot frame. His jaw flexed as he stared at Rocke, and a tiny bit of scruff glimmered on his cheeks.

At this point, Rocke didn’t have anything to lose. He’d been pushed away by all but the last two Doms in the building. Rocke sighed and dipped his head. “I’d like to play.”

“Very well.” The taller one ushered him into the room. Unlike the other rooms, this particular room more resembled a bedroom. No BDSM bed or bar contraptions. There was just a plain bed with white sheets. Thick carpet muffled their footsteps as the Doms led him to a leather couch and armchair. The room reminded him more of an apartment than a play place.

“Before we get down to business, my name is Carson.” The taller one extended his hand. “This is my partner, Jeremiah. We’ve been together for eight years. We don’t take many subs, and when we do, it’s only one at a time. You are Rocke Houseman, correct? Sit.”

Something in Carson’s voice made Rocke want to comply. He debated sitting on the chair but only for a moment. This was a test—had to be. He knelt on the floor at their feet and bowed his head. Fuck. His knee screamed with pain, but he ignored the hurt. He’d never get better if he kept giving in to his injury.

“Very good but we don’t want you on the floor. Sit in the chair.” Carson perched on the edge of the sofa, and Jeremiah stood behind him with his arms folded. Where Jeremiah seemed to be covered in sleeves of tattoos, Carson was all pristine muscle. Carson leaned forward. “We could read the tablet and find out what your boundaries are, but we’d rather hear them from you.”

Rocke’s gaze vacillated between the two men. Most Doms didn’t want to talk. They read the dossier and went right into play. Rocke wobbled to his feet, careful not to wrench his knee, then sat on the armchair. The shards of pain subsided, and he laced his fingers together. Hopefully, Carson and Jeremiah hadn’t seen him wince.

“Go on,” Jeremiah prompted. The harness he wore bit into his muscled chest.

“I’m not a heavy player in the BDSM world. I’ve never tried most things. No inclination to.” Rocke shrugged. “My biggest kink is threesomes. I like a dick in my mouth and one in my ass. You can use a cock ring, cock cage, handcuff me, nipple clips or spank my ass red…I’m game. But no permanent marks. I can’t have anything that’ll show in the locker room.”

“Why?” Carson prompted.

Rocke shifted in his seat. The leather creaked beneath him. They’d find out sooner or later—don’t leave marks if you don’t want to have to explain them to everyone in detail. The locker room was worse than a newsroom. They had to know everything. But he needed to trust Carson and Jeremiah. Something about the pair made him want to take a chance. They didn’t seem like others in his past who’d wanted to exploit his waning celebrity status.

“I’m a professional baseball player. I’m the shortstop for the Falcons. Eight years with a .285 batting average—well, until I blew out my knee. ACL injury three games from the playoffs and we’re in first place in our division. Sucked.” Rocke groaned. He’d given away a lot of info.

“We saw that play. You’re lucky to be standing without crutches.” Jeremiah rounded the sofa and sat beside his partner. “And you still got the double play.”

“I did.” The tips of his ears burned. They’d seen him on the field? “I have to ask—who’s your favorite team?”

“Grizzlies,” Carson replied. “The team that took you out.”

“Ah.” Maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea. Rocke sank down in his seat. “They’re a formidable team. I wish I hadn’t gotten cocky.”

“You had to. It’s who you are.” Carson rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb. “Who was your Dom before? We noticed you took a shine to Zane.”

“Everyone here.” Rocke snorted. The harder he’d tried to please a Dom, the faster he pushed them away. “You’ve probably heard all about me. I’m difficult.”

“How so?” Jeremiah reclined on the sofa and draped his arms across the back. “Details.”

Did they want to shame him? Jesus. “I like to talk. I don’t want to be demeaned. I’m not wild about wax and shit on my body.” His voice cracked, and the fury deep within him came to a head. “I want to be tied up and fucked. Use me like the God damn media does.”

He’d lost his temper. Fuck.

He couldn’t breathe. Rocke rested his head in his hands. “Sorry. I’m good at following orders, but I tend to top from the bottom. I’m hard to control, I guess.” They’d boot him just like the others. He might as well get up and leave…once his knee decided to cooperate. He closed his eyes and focused on controlling the pain in his soul. If he pushed the searing hurt deep, it wouldn’t bother him.

“Hard to control is in the eye of the beholder.” Carson placed his hand on Rocke’s thigh. “You may be one of the more challenging subs, but it’s not a death sentence. It simply means you haven’t found the right Doms—until now.”

 * * * *

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite–on command.

She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press, Decadent Publishing , Liquid Silver Books, MLR Press, Resplendence Publishing, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Megan’s site: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

Megan’s blog: http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com

Megan on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/meganslayer

Megan on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5330530.Megan_Slayer

Megan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

Megan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer

AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MeganSlayer

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Adult Excerpt from Letters to a War Zone by Lucy Felthouse

Hi everyone,

For my final post of this party, I’m going to share an excerpt from my upcoming release, Letters to a War Zone, published by Totally Bound. It’s an m/m military erotic romance short story. It’s available for early release direct from the publisher website, I believe, and it will be available everywhere from 28th March.

*****

Letters to a War Zone“R-rude thoughts? About me?

“Yes, about you. You got a problem with that?”

“No. Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”

“How about we get undressed? Where’s your bedroom?”

Bailey couldn’t speak. Not that he’d have known what to say if he could. Instead, he pushed his chair back, stood up and walked to his room, trusting that Nick would follow him. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that he was.

After skirting round his case and bag on the floor, Bailey went directly to his bedside table and grabbed condoms and lube, throwing them on to the bed.

“Someone’s prepared,” Nick laughed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

“I’m always prepared. Wishful thinking and all that.”

“Well, you don’t have to wish any more. It’s happening. If you want it to.”

“Of course I do. Look at me.” He indicated the erection pushing insistently against the inside of his jeans and boxers, tenting the material.

Nick pointed to his matching camo-covered erection, and the two of them laughed, then abruptly fell silent. They stood facing one another, just looking, for a few long seconds. Nick cracked first. Closing the space between them in one long stride, he slotted his hands either side of Bailey’s face and leaned down.

Bailey accepted the kiss eagerly, slipping his arms around Nick’s waist and accepting his tongue. He heard a metallic tinkle as they moved together, and smiled against Nick’s mouth. He had absolutely no idea what it was about uniforms or dog tags that got him hot, but at this point, he was just going to go with the flow. He supposed he’d been doing that all along with Nick and it had definitely worked favourably up until now, so it was clearly a good route to go.

Nick pushed him back onto the bed, immediately following him and covering him with his big body, melding their mouths back together. He felt so good, all thick and hard through his clothes…and that was just his cock. It pressed, hot and stiff, against his thigh, and he just knew it would feel sublime as it pumped inside his arse. Suddenly, it couldn’t happen soon enough. He twisted his head so he could speak, and said, “Nick, please, just fuck me now.”

“Now? Right now? Really?”

“Yes, please. The sooner the better. We can be a little more leisurely afterwards. Right now, I just want you inside me. Fast.”

“Um, wow. Okay. Guess I can’t say no to that. Can I at least get undressed?”

“No. I want you to fuck me in your uniform. And I’m going to lie on my back so I can see you.”

“You’re demanding all of a sudden.”

“Get used to it. Hurry.”

Nick wasted no more time on words, instead manoeuvring Bailey into position and helping him off with his jeans and boxers, then pulling his own cock from his trousers, grabbing one of the rubbers and rolling it down his shaft. Then he flipped the lid on the bottle of lube and went to town, smearing it liberally on himself and also over, around and inside Bailey’s arsehole.

Bailey writhed and moaned as Nick’s thick fingers penetrated him. He hadn’t been fucked in a long time, a very long time, and he was feeling every single one of those seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years as he waited for the other man to take him. He was utterly desperate, and he reached up and spread his hands across Nick’s scalp, pulling him down for another kiss.

“Please, Nick,” he whispered as the other man’s mouth was about to press against his own, “take me now. Hard and fast as you can go. I just need it. Really need it.”

“You’re not the only fucking one,” he replied, then forced his lips hard onto Bailey’s, still pumping his fingers in and out of his back passage. Bailey opened his lips eagerly, allowing Nick’s tongue admittance, and he revelled in the kiss, in the pleasurable feelings it sent shooting through his body. The soldier was a very good kisser, hard but not too much. Sensual, skilled, totally fucking sublime. Then there was the fact he was still finger-fucking him, loosening his arsehole ready to admit his dick.

Bailey’s own cock was so hard he worried it might burst. He wanted Nick, and he wanted him now. And again after that, and after that… It seemed he was hooked already. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

*****

Grab Letters to a War Zone here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/letters-to-a-war-zone/

Add it to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20722128-letters-to-a-war-zone

*****

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

Velvet Scars by Sean Michael, coming soon, Naughty Excerpt

Here is a naughty excerpt for the latest Velvet Glove book, coming out on Wednesday March 19 at Torquere Press: http://www.torquerebooks.com/

Argon is the new master of the body mods shop at the rebuilt Velvet Glove and he needs an apprentice. He’s hoping for someone who will not only want to learn how to pierce, tattoo, scar and brand, but who is also interested in being his submissive as well.

Brother Yves arrives at the body mods shop on a mission from the clerics of Mount Bell. The cloister has been his only home and he is totally innocent. Scared and far away from home, he nonetheless forges forward and presents himself to Master Argon, insisting that he is destined to be with the man.

Are Argon and Yves too different to find common ground, or are they destined to be together forever?

Naughty Excerpt:

“Your skin is beautiful.” Argon had never seen its like.
“It is pale, Master, like the moon.”
“It is.” He touched it again. “It will wear my marks like magic.” Tattoos, scars, piercings and brands — they would all stand out on Yves’ skin like beacons.
Argon kept unfastening the buttons, finding Yves bare beneath the robes. That surprised him, shocked him. He’d expected heavy underclothes. The little pink nipples stood out in the pale skin, and he touched one.
Yves went stiff, eyes huge. “They don’t make milk.”
Argon had to bite the insides of his lips hard to keep from laughing, but he did it — he would not embarrass Yves.
He touched again, stroking just the tip. The wee bit drew up tight, responding immediately.
“Are they sensitive?” he asked, moving to touch the other one. Some men were not sensitive there. Argon felt sorry for them.
“They tingle. Is that sensitive?”
“Oh, yes. That’s a good thing.” He kept stroking, keeping his touches easy for now.
He wanted to know if Yves’ cock would be hard when he uncovered it. Sliding his fingers down along Yves chest and over the slender, taut abdomen, he reached the bottom buttons and continued opening Yves’ robe.
Yves shrank inside the robes, obviously fighting the instinct to struggle. Argon appreciated that, the will.
He opened the robes completely, exposing the rest of Yves’ body to his gaze. Oh, gods above and below. White skin, long slender cock, snowy curls. He slid his fingers through the enticing curls, admiring with just his eyes, for now, the hard prick.
“My touches please you.” He was nearly purring.
“I’m sorry? Are they not supposed to?”
“You don’t have to apologize every time I say something. And yes, they are supposed to — I am very pleased.”
“Oh, thank you, Master.”
“No one has ever touched you, have they?” It was a logical conclusion.
“No. No. Never.”
“Good.” Argon loved that this man was innocent and absolutely untouched.

 

Argon stroked Yves’ leg with one finger. So pale he could see the map of blue veins beneath the skin. He followed one. Tiny hairs tickled his fingertip and he could feel Yves’ heartbeat through his skin — thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
“Like silk.” He looked up to meet Yves’ eyes.
Yves looked scared, stunned, almost dizzy. Argon slid his hands up along Yves’ sides, his skin so dark in comparison to Yves’ paleness.
He stopped to press his hand against Yves’ belly. “Breathe.”
A wild gasp sounded.
“Now breathe again.”
Yves took another breath, eyes staring into his.
“You can do this. I’m a good master.” Argon would not abuse Yves; he would make sure his boy enjoyed his ministrations, and their life together.
“Yes, Master. I’m trying to be right.”
“You are right just as you are. I don’t want you to do what you think you should. Do you understand?” He wanted Yves, for himself.
“I understand, but I don’t know what to do at all.” Such open honesty, such rawness.
“I shall teach you.” Argon touched his hand to Yves’ belly. “And you must listen to your instincts, trust them.”
“Do I have those?”
“Oh, yes. Everyone does.” He pressed against Yves’ belly. “You’ll feel it here.”
Yves took another deep breath, belly rebounding under his touch. He pressed against it a little harder, enjoying the intimacy of feeling Yves’ breath. The sweet skin pinked around his fingers, leaving a mark. Oh, he was going to have a marvelous time, leaving marks both impermanent and permanent.
Yves began to relax, to melt. Argon dipped his finger into Yves’ navel, teasing a little, and all the lean muscles tensed, rippled against his touch.
“Do you want to touch me, too?” Argon had to ask, because he very much wanted Yves to touch him, but more than that, he wanted Yves to want it, too.
Straight white teeth sank into Yves’ bottom lip as he nodded. “Please.”

 

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything – http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Yes, Master by Sean Michael, coming soon, naughty excerpt

Here’s a naughty excerpt from my BDSM short story collection, coming on Wednesday from Torquere Press: http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

From first timers to hard core lovers, this collection of five BDSM themed short stories by Sean Michael has something for everyone.

Stories include: Playing for Keeps, The Twelve Kinks of Christmas, Payday, Following My Heart and Finding Kasey.

Stories previously published individually.

Naughty Excerpt:

When I turn around again, he’s already gone. Upstairs, I assume. Home. Or what used to be home nine months ago. I stop, take a deep breath, and put my backpack on the floor out of the way. If I’m right, I won’t need it. If I’m wrong, it won’t matter.

Upstairs is one great big room and he’s waiting by the bed, his arms still folded across his chest and he looks… not angry, but stern.

I don’t say anything, I just stare at him. Wait.

“Take off your clothes. You aren’t going to need them anymore.”

My mouth goes dry, but my hands don’t. I fumble with my belt, toe off my loafers. He doesn’t say a word. He just keeps watching me, his eyes boring into me like a pair of lasers. I take my shirt off, fold it, then slip off my Dockers. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Ever. I know this is a test, though, and that if I don’t pass it, that’ll be it. I fold my slacks, take off my briefs, stand there.

I’m not unattractive to him, or at least I didn’t used to be.

“Kneel.” No, not unattractive at all, Jimmy’s voice has gone all husky the way it does when need starts riding him.

I kneel down, the floor hard and cold on my knees. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

His breath catches in his throat. “Come here and suck me off.”

I meet his eyes, needing to see that he doesn’t hate me, that he’s looking at me. I can read the need there, plain as day. But more than that, I see the fear — he’s scared this isn’t real, that I’m going to bolt.

I won’t. I will not. I need this.

I move forward, stumble, and catch myself on his thighs. “Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Tripping.”

“Only that?”

I nod. Yeah, I haven’t done anything else wrong.

Yet.

“Start sucking, Scotty.”

I get his sweats down, uncover the thick, fat cock, and suck him in. God, he tastes good.

He groans. I know that sound. My hands wrap around his thighs, and I moan for him, head bobbing as I fight to take him in all the way. I never have learned to deep throat him, but I try.

His hands drop, one on my shoulder, the other at the back of my head. He’s not pushing me. Not yet anyway. His fingers wrap around my ponytail, tug it like he’s reminding me I won’t have it for long, and I shiver, swallow as I suck.

“Going to make you mine.” He starts to move his hips now, pushing his thick cock into my mouth.

I can’t help gagging — he’s so big, so thick, and he’s pushing hard. He backs off a little, his thrusts becoming shallower, not slower, though. He isn’t backing off that much. My own cock is full, aching, bobbing in front of me with each of his thrusts in.

“Don’t come,” he tells me, voice gruff. I can hear the slight catch in it, and I know it won’t be long before he comes.

Fuck. Fuck, I want. I need to come, but I want to do this right first.

He pulls my face into his groin as he pushing in one last time, hard this time, and fills my throat with his spunk. I cry out, swallowing deep, over and over, trying to take it all in.

He finally lets go of my ponytail and pulls away, cock slipping from between my lips.

He looks torn between wanting to pull me close and holding me at arms length. Close finally wins and he hauls me up against him — I’d forgotten just how strong he is — and crushes me close. “I missed you. Asshole.”

I hold on — what else can I do? I fucking love him. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re back now, though. And you said you would do anything. That mean what I think it means?”

My mouth goes dry, but I nod. Yeah. Yeah, it does.

“Then let’s get started. There’s no turning back; I can’t do the last nine months over again, Scotty. I can’t.” There’s a catch in the voice of my big, strong lover.

“I’m yours.” I swallow hard. “Sir.”

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything – http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Irish in all of us and an excerpt (m/m)

Love St Pat’s! Here in New Mexico tonight we’re doing enchiladas and tequila. Green chile counts, right?

here’s a wee excerpt from my upcoming title with Torquere Press called Dream Dice. It has a pseudo Irish barbarian, which also counts! (grins) This is from the unedited file, so forgive any errors, please!

 

“You are staring at me.”

“Yes.” He swallowed. “I’m, uh, trying to see your ailment.”

Erlich smiled slowly, the expression wicked as all hell. “I do not have one. I told you, I need strength for a test I must pass.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. So, what kind of test is this?” He ate another bite, knowing he had to stall, since he knew he wasn’t a frickin’ healer.

“A test of strength and control.” Something else flickered in Erlich’s green eyes for a moment, something very serious. Then the smile was back. “All I need is your magic.”

“My magic. Right on.” Shit. He needed to run. He’d just escape through the back of the tent when Erlich turned his back. “I need to consult my, uh, scrolls.”

Erlich snorted. “There are scrolls for this? I will prepare while you read.”

“Good deal.” Whatever preparation meant. Maybe it meant time to run away while Erlich did some kind of barbarian meditation. Thayer turned toward the back of the tent, separated from the sitting area by gauzy curtain. Okay. No scrolls there, just a giant bed made up of cushions, smaller pillows and furs. A few satiny blankets perched on the soft surface like exotic birds.

Crap. There was also no door or flap or even a gap big enough for him to slither through.

He could call for Geyah. Say he was truly ill and couldn’t perform today.

“Are you ready, Healer?”

“Huh?” He whirled around, his breath seizing in his chest so hard that he choked. “You’re naked.”

Gloriously naked. Erlich had the most amazing body Thayer had ever seen, and God knew he watched enough gay porn these days. The strong neck flowed into wide shoulders, the muscles doing that tiny bumpy thing. Sculpted pecs and abs covered in red fuzz funneled down to cut hipbones and long, muscled thighs. The cock that rose between said thighs made Thayer feel a little twinge in his ass just looking at it.

“Do you find me distasteful? If you prefer, I can wear clothes.”

“Whatever you’re comfy with.” His voice squeaked. Way to go, healer.

“I like nude, then.” Erlich moved to the big bed and lay down, spreading out like a moveable feast.

Thayer fought the urge to run in circles and scream. His cock let itself be known right about then, hindering his movement, it was so damned hard. He covered it with his hands, because his thin pants did nothing to cover his hard-on.

“Your magic is strong,” Erlich murmured, eyes on the backs of Thayer’s hands.

“Is it?” He might faint. Oh, that was a good idea. His feet disagreed, taking him right to Erlich’s side, where he knelt by the bed. He reached out, just like Erlich’s cock was a magnet. The skin under his fingers felt hot, smooth, alive. Thayer swallowed hard, stroking up and down gently. “I don’t see how you could possibly need strength.”

Erlich arched, pushing up into his hand. “I must prove myself to my tribe.”

“Uh-huh.” He licked his lips, moving closer by an inch or two, close enough to feel Erlich’s hot skin against his knees.

“Truly. I need to be able to control the animal inside me.”

Thayer almost choked on his own drool. Erlich’s thick cock pushed up, curving a little. The heavy balls beneath had a covering of ginger fur, the thighs bracketing everything so thick with muscle that Erlich looked like a comic book hero.

“Okay,” Thayer said. “One magic spell to control the beast inside.”

***

 

Been so much fun this weekend! Thanks to all who stopped by!

XXOO

Julia Talbot http://www.juliatalbot.com

Yes, Master by Sean Michael, coming soon, pg excerpt

 

Torquere Press is putting out a collection of my BDSM themed short stories on Wednesday March 19: http://www.torquerebooks.com/

From first timers to hard core lovers, this collection of five BDSM themed short stories by Sean Michael has something for everyone.

Stories include: Playing for Keeps, The Twelve Kinks of Christmas, Payday, Following My Heart and Finding Kasey.

Stories previously published individually.

PG Excerpt:

From Following My Heart

 

Four cups.

Four fucking cups of coffee.

Four cups of coffee, three trips to the bathroom, six hours, and a lot of deep breathing and I still can’t cross the fucking street.

My hair is getting in my eyes, keeping me from focusing on the window across the way, the sign there. I tie it back, take another breath and tell myself it’s time. Now.

The last time I was in there was… what? Eight months ago? Almost nine.  Shit. We’d fought hard, damn hard — complete with screaming and broken furniture, accusations and blame. It had been over.

It was over.

Is over.

But still…

All the running I’ve done, and it doesn’t fucking matter. All I can think of is him; all I dream about is the things he asked for, the last thing he said to me.

“You’re a fucking coward, Scotty. Scared to ask for what we both need.”

Shaved bare — completely. Inked. Pierced. Plugged. A full time boy, a full time sub. His boy.

I just…

I can’t, right?

I can’t.

That’s not me.

But…

No one has made me want like he did.

No one.

And I keep dreaming and…

I’m moving across the street, knowing I look out of place with my preppy clothes, my oh-so-Bohemian ponytail, my whole life reduced to a backpack. I open the door to the studio, grab the help wanted sign and look into the face of the man I love more than life. “I’m here about a job.”

Jimmy’s eyes go wide, and then narrow. “Scotty.”

I nod. What else am I supposed to do? “Yeah.”

He puts the paintbrush down and crosses his arms. “A job.”

God, he’s beautiful.

“Anything. I was wrong.”

“Anything?” His voice is like smooth whiskey.

“Anything.” This time, I mean it.

“Go lock the door and come upstairs.”

I nod, head over, palms sweaty, shaking so badly that they slide on the lock.

I can do this.

I can.

 

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything – http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Velvet Scars by Sean Michael, coming soon, pg excerpt

The latest Velvet Glove book is coming out on Wednesday March 19 at Torquere Press: http://www.torquerebooks.com/

Argon is the new master of the body mods shop at the rebuilt Velvet Glove and he needs an apprentice. He’s hoping for someone who will not only want to learn how to pierce, tattoo, scar and brand, but who is also interested in being his submissive as well.

Brother Yves arrives at the body mods shop on a mission from the clerics of Mount Bell. The cloister has been his only home and he is totally innocent. Scared and far away from home, he nonetheless forges forward and presents himself to Master Argon, insisting that he is destined to be with the man.

Are Argon and Yves too different to find common ground, or are they destined to be together forever?

PG Excerpt:

Was he going to meet anyone even passably qualified today?
The next knock on his door was oddly… gentle. Could a knock be gentle?
“Enter.” He watched the door, ready to dismiss this candidate as quickly as he had the last.
The door opened and a lean, incredibly pale man walked in. “Master Argon?” The man’s eyes were the lightest blue, hair snow white, features foreign and fascinating.
“Yes, I am Master Argon.” The first one to address him properly. There was potential here. He looked the boy over again. Oh, yes. Definite potential.
Long fingers were brought up, palms together, and he was given a deep bow. “I am Brother Yves. The clerics of Mount Bell sent me to you.”
Well, this was not a boring interview.
“Sent you to me? You’re a priest?” A priest? Here at the Velvet Glove? And at the body mod shop at that. Argon had so many questions.
“I am in training, Master. The brotherhood had a vision that I was meant to come to you.”
“Do you mean to apprentice with me? In this place where men use their bodies in all manner of perversions and pleasures?” He was blunt — if what they did here would offend this Brother Yves in any way, he needed to know now.
“They say that I am to come to you, offer myself to you for your will.” So calm. So still. What would it take to ripple these waters?
“You will have to experience each of the body mods we do here.” His apprentice would be a canvas to his will.

 

“The brotherhood says I will find the light here, that I am destined for this.”

 

Argon put his hands on his hips, let his body be on display. He wore only his leathers, which hugged his body and displayed his package. His upper body was bare, skin glinting with sweat as he kept the shop quite warm. “Even if it gets physical between us?” His apprentice didn’t have to be his submissive as well, but it was Argon’s dream, to have his shop and his love all in one place. To be able to work together as Dom and sub in all aspects of their life… He yearned for that. And there was an attraction here, a spark that lit the moment Yves had walked in.
“I have not taken a vow of chastity, Master. If the gods intend me to be yours, I am yours. I have faith.”
“My scars and brands don’t offend you?” His facial scarring and branding had not been voluntary, but they were badges of his survival. They had appalled more than one lover and he knew that many submissives found him scary because of them.
“Should they? I have been kept pure for my calling, but I have heard no one who called marks a blasphemy.”
There was something about that deep water calm that made Argon want to shake it. Hard.

 

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything – http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

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