BDSM Menage Erotica: The Carnal Chess

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Dropping my gaze, I count the black keys on my keyboard, understanding the feeling of being caught in between. He leans over to whisper in my ear. Feel it. Let it flow through your fingers so I can hear it. I pick up my guitar. Pure, simple, elemental, it evokes memories of a young white girl, taken against her will. Thank fuck at least one of us got it. I might be able to come close, but to re-create it exactly would be like writing a short story, setting it aside, and writing it again, verbatim. That was…wow. Jackson rubs his chest, making the barbells through his nipples glint under the lights.

When I get up and go to the kitchen for a chilled bottle of water, he follows me. He bends down to murmur in my right ear; his nose nudges the row of hoops that rim it as his breath dances over my skin. Pretty much. If anyone else called me kitten, I might take offense. But the Spanish rolling off his tongue has an oddly erotic appeal. The temperature in here just raised ten degrees. Needing to chill, I twist off the lid, slam back a mouthful of cold spring water, and nearly die of brain freeze.

I flick my eyelashes at him, daring him to flirt some more. We kind of skipped that part when we went straight from heated looks to promises of three-way kink. He knows it. I know it. Risk anything. A little sass gives us an excuse to get creative. Up close, his tats are even more amazing.

From a former groupie when we were still performing as The Thomason Twins. Bitch lasted four weeks. Longest fucking month of my life. Lifting my free hand, I palm his chest to feel his piercing and his nipple peaks against it. I drop my gaze, and see a distinct tenting of his jeans. Grace and I pulled strings to get our favorite waitress Rae into the current one.

That makes him snort. My gaze fastens on the two thin silver rings that pierce his nostrils, something I never would have considered attractive, let alone sexy, until I saw them on him. One time offer. In or out. Yep, gonna need pairs and pairs of underwear. One brow cocks. He puts his hand over mine and flexes his pec, teasing me back. I plan on coming tonight. Long and hard and more than once. I just hope one of you likes anal. Not really. I landed here by sheer luck. I load my tray, paste on a smile, and deliver plate lunch specials to the sheriff and his dispatcher.

When I found out Cruz was being released, I broke down and showed the old news clipping to Sherry, more comfortable sharing with another woman who can understand what I went through. The thought makes my head spin. How does that work in a threesome? Somehow Anna manages to top that news. Anna sees how close I am to losing it. Jackson and Jacob are good to me. If you doubt it, ask Grace. You know she lies like shit. Ignoring my other tables, I clear my head and manage a smile for them. Beneath my clenched stomach, my guts are churning. What can you tell me? She sees things.

Knows things. What was and what will be. I came here to be free of my past, to carve a future for myself, for us, free from the Colson brothers. The day she got pierced at Black Dragon Ink, she caught me there, checking them out. I told her I was thinking about a tat. She thought I meant getting one, when I need mine covered or removed. Hiding the keys in a napkin, Grace pushes them over and drops her voice to a whisper. Like right fucking now. Anna whips her head around, hard enough to send her purple and red streaked black hair flying.

Subtle, she is not. This is so going in my biography. The titanic. The man every woman wants to go down on. And—well, fuck me. Who just got out of prison. Cruz has been inside for four years, convicted on weapons charges. Who comes out of prison unchanged? I could really use the voice of wisdom. Grace smiles softly, looking as serene as a Madonna. Her inner peace instills a sense of calm in me. No judgment here, Rachel. The premise of the Three Graces is simple.

All three have psychic abilities Grace more so than the others , and each book has a theme. Three women and the six men who love them. These novellas may just change your mind. All are fantastic! It is hot with depth of character!! A solid 5 star read!! As an old spinster school teacher, I have to say I was not comfortable with the graphic details, and I will further admit that I had no idea what some of the jargon meant. Moreover, women have a long history of trying to decide between the good boy and the bad boy for their life partners. Lucky Anna gets both.

I cannot wait for more in this series. Rachel Givens and her daughter Hannah stole my heart immediately…. Just an amazing story! This newest addition just makes a difficult decision more impossible. Something Special follows Grace, J. It is told from J. And, it also shows how even the strongest of personalities can bend and give to prove their love! I adored this novella as much as the previous three and am looking forward to reading more as soon as possible.

I take off my leathers, hanging my sword belt and pistol on a hook by the front door. I searched for you. Found you. Fought for you. We both do. Grace inhales sharply, her nostrils flaring. Her small fingers curl against the fabric of her skirt. I smirk at her. It will be your secret. Our secret. Suddenly, Grace giggles and looks at Nico. Her green glass eyes widen, then grow smoky with arousal.

I have a better use for that mouth, woman. Nico stands behind her, stroking himself through his fringed buckskin pants. Grace unties her apron, lets it fall to the floor. Reaching for her neckline, she unfastens her buttons, slipping them free, one by one, from top to bottom. Her skirt and petticoats go next, followed by her corset cover. Touched without permission? The one who had you, when he played with your breasts, did he grind his cock against your ass and wonder what it would be like to take you there? A heartbeat later, she buckles to the floor at my feet, scrambling to get my pants unfastened.

When she undoes the fly and tugs, she looks at me in confusion. I realize that the suspenders that keep my pants in place are preventing her from pulling them down. Breanna had researched the rest of the Viking Doms, and Gunnar remained the best choice for her first time. His special area of interest was Dark Ages Europe, and he was trained in marine archaeology. His discovery of an ancient shipwreck with its treasure intact had made him rich enough to pursue his pleasures, and those had led him here, where he was actually paid to indulge them. Gunnar was drop dead gorgeous, with a body like a Bernini statue and a face like mortal sin.

He was also one of the most sought-after for scenes, thanks to a television series that had renewed interest in Viking history and culture. Today he was dressed for role playing, with a red woolen kyrtill worn over his fitted white trousers. Ornate trim edged the neckline and sleeves. Back in the day, his ornate belt and bulging purse would have identified him as a man of considerable substance.

The sheathed dagger hanging from it suggested that he would protect his property at all cost. He held a pen in his hand, and the thought that he might have already signed it made her breath hitch in her chest. Sir Piers smiled at her reaction and officially introduced them. Sir Gunnar, Breanna. The sheer energy that Gunnar embodied made Breanna drop her gaze to the floor.

When she sang duets with her sister, Rowena usually soared an octave above her. Gunnar bent over the desk, signed the contract with bold, broad strokes, and handed the gold-tipped fountain pen to Sir Piers. Turning back to Breanna, he drew himself up to his full, intimidating height and eyed her with an intensity that she felt to her core.

He walked over to where she knelt, slowly circling to stand behind her. Without moving her head, she risked a glance upward and saw Sir Piers looking at his computer screen. He clicked on his keyboard and stroked his chin. I suggest you take Breanna down. Discuss the scene in detail, decide what you need, see if any questions remain to be addressed.

Have Samael page me if you need me. She followed him as best she could, his long-legged stride eating the length of the maze of back halls that made working at Replay an adventure in itself. Leading the horde of Northmen, all speaking Old Norse, had been Gunnar. He had held himself aloof, dispensing punishment, issuing orders, directing the action. He was a master choreographer, and everyone had danced to his tune. It was an impressive space, with a number of benches flanking four long wooden tables.

A large fireplace took up most of one stone wall. Torches were mounted on the others. Wax candles studded the heavy iron chandeliers, which were hung securely enough to perform suspension. His scent was an erotic mix of wood smoke and leather and musk. I want to make certain that your first time is as memorable as we can make it. From now until then, while we are in this room, you will address me as Master, or Milord. Gunnar lifted her chin until her gaze met his. So full of questions, so naturally curious. And brave, to think of doing this.

She blinked those incredible whiskey eyes, and he wondered if she could truly be as guileless as she seemed. He nearly smiled. You are a rare treasure, Breanna. Breanna caught her lower lip and her face grew flush. She was a musician. She was at Replay to perform period music. Breanna had confessed that it was all she could do to perform a very private act in a semi-public setting. He smiled softly, looking forward to the challenge she presented.

You have an air of innocence about you, and your sister has a spirit of adventure. His incredible blue eyes studied her with an intensity that was unnerving. Exhaling softly, he brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and put his hand on her shoulder. She inhaled sharply, feeling its weight and warmth and trying not to think of where she wished he would touch her.

He angled his head, considering. What do you hope to see? To experience? You understand that your soft list is pretty limited? Not wench or girl or pet. She wanted to be his, if only for the night.


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Before you bare your body, I would have you bare your soul. Tell me something. Tell me everything. Embarrassment pinked her face. Rather than speak, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and stepped back, breaking the contact between them and feeling a sense of loss when he chose to let her go. She placed a hand on one of the narrow tables and skimmed her fingers along the distressed surface, imagining herself there, at his mercy. How much he would show…well, that depended on how the scene played out.

She slanted a glance up at him and just as quickly looked away from his curious half smile and penetrating gaze. He wanted to know everything. How could she begin to tell him that she dreamed of him? He was the stuff of fantasies. Gunnar might have the patience of Job, but Breanna knew better than to test it. Unable to confess what she really wanted, she settled for the next best thing. But she did. She did.

And so did the Dom. He stepped close enough that she smelled musk and heat and man as he towered over her, displeasure radiating from him in waves.

Nia Farrell – Wicked Pens

She steeled herself and turned towards him. Lifting her face, she searched his hard blue eyes. His jaw clenched, revealing his growing impatience. She swallowed hard and whispered her confession. I want you to make it real. A second later, Gunnar ripped the coif from her head, freeing her thick waist-length tresses to tumble down her back. He shoved his fingers in her hair, gripped her scalp, and made her look at him.

For the first time, she felt a frisson of fear down her spine, and she shivered, unable to help herself. His narrowed eyes had the look of a falcon studying its prey. She swallowed hard and forced the words, stammering. She thought for a moment that he might just do it.

Instead, Gunnar fisted her hair, holding it but not quite pulling. She had thought wearing a wig would be a good idea. Now it was a source of his displeasure. He put his other hand on her breast, testing the ripe, firm swell of flesh. When her nipple pebbled beneath his palm, one side of his mouth curved in a half smile. He looked like a predator, toying with his next meal, as if he knew that he could have her right here, right now, if he wanted.

One of many. This way, I can leave Regina Wright behind at the end of the night.


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  • Rowena smiled. The noble Roman with the chestnut head, neatly trimmed beard, and excessive body hair sucking toes is my literary agent. The shaved head Roman general interrogating his Briton captive? My talent agent and his personal assistant. Normally, Sabrina and I play music at these things.

    Jealous, maybe? Possessive goes a little too far. Here it was. The truth. Obliged by contract to confess. She blew out softly and told him her best guess. My rule is one time. No strings. No repeats. They knew it before we spent the night together. Demanded it. It was the worst walk of shame ever, and I realized I had a problem. I found help. He had the good grace to acknowledge his mistake. She looked away, remembering. I had to go home and get myself off. The truth? For me, attending an orgy without taking the edge off would not be wise. Refusing to be cowed, she met and held his enigmatic gaze.

    Our contract. No kink. Micheil MacDonald chuckled. It was a nice sound. A nice laugh. With her, not at her. She relaxed just a bit. She swore his electric blue eyes just got a shade darker. One corner of his mouth curved upwards. Thank you. I think. She had let her followers know that a book was coming, had kept them updated on her progress. The manuscript was done, but only her literary agent and publisher had seen it. Micheil dipped his head at the Replay owner, who was ordering punishment for a slave girl.

    Leger told me that ye command a hefty appearance fee. My offer was purely a guess. Since ye agreed tae the terms, I take it that the contract met yer expectations. The slave was stripped and bound to a column. Tiberius Piers snapped his fingers and a tray of floggers appeared. He picked one of softest leather and introduced her to it, stroking her sides, rubbing her back, tracing her cheek, then stepping back and laying on the first set of stripes. Rowena clamped her thighs together, cursing her traitorous body, feeling the telltale moisture between her legs.

    His blue eyes considered her, a lambency in their depths that she could not fail to recognize.

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    He stepped closer, not touching except for the breath that fanned her hair and bathed her in his heat. Leger, lass, with whom? The Dom came out, full force, and he was not happy. He blew out harshly. Her chin came up as she threw her head back far enough to meet his gaze. Not even a hint of irony. For one night of play without sex? Remember, my rule is one time. Damn him. Damn her body, begging her to reconsider. He smiled darkly. For that alone, ye need a spanking. Two spankings. I should be the one tae give them. The Vestal Virgin was yearning for the path to ruination.

    I gave my word. Three nights. No sex. When the play winds down and they shuffle us out in the wee hours of the morning, what happens next is up tae us, aye? She thought she sounded unshakeable. Forget yer rules. His voice had dropped to a rumble that pushed every button she had. She whimpered, as if she could already feel herself bent over his lap, panties around her knees, his large hand exploring the landscape of her posterior as he familiarized himself with the terrain, deciding how he wanted to change it for his pleasure.

    Once for trying tae top me. Once for playing innocent aboot it. Once for nae letting me ken who ye were. We hae three nights of scenes tae get through. At the end of each night, ye will present yerself tae me. Ye will submit. Three punishments and aftercare. I promise ye, I am verra good at both. The third floor hall was lined with doors that anything could be happening behind. The air was thick with the smell of sex. Sir Piers stopped in front of Room 9, inserted an electronic key, and opened wide the door. Fighting to extricate herself from a tangled web of trepidation and anticipation, she broke its hold and stepped inside.

    There was a four poster bed, a sofa, a chair, and a spanking bench. A sex swing was hung near a St. A padded table, large enough to lay someone on, had strategic holes cut out and was studded with O-rings on its legs and sides. The walls were lined with racks of toys for impact play, and she was certain that the chests of drawers were full of erotic surprises.

    It would be your choice: external stimulation, internal manual stimulation, or cunninlingus—with or without a dental dam. I will go no further than what we have discussed and agreed upon, even if it means not touching you except incidentally, while wrapping lines and tying knots. Not nearly as much fun, mind you, but the decision is yours. Either that, or get me off with his hand? How beautiful you are. A bevy of butterflies launched at his words. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she searched his steadfast gaze and saw nothing but raw and open honesty and the gift he was offering.

    He smiled, pleased with her choice. You must tell me immediately if you feel anything unusual—tingling, numbness, discomfort, pain, any unnatural color, or chill in your extremities. I need to know your safe words: one word to slow down, another to stop immediately and assess.

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    Now, tell me your safe words, princess. He chuckled, a rich, warm sound that wrapped itself around her like a blanket. I am no sadist. I do not take pleasure in causing undue pain. But, when done properly, pain during play sensitizes the skin, increases arousal to the point of euphoria, and releases endorphins that help one achieve subspace, where the mind transcends the body. In that state, you will not respond normally.

    It becomes my sole responsibility to assess, and reassess, to judge whether to continue play or to stop and begin aftercare. If fear takes hold, or doubts set in, I want you to tell me. Do not wait for permission to speak. Communication is the key to any relationship, even if it is only for an evening of play. But understand, when you use your safe word, play is done. The scene is over. I shall help bring you down, see to your aftercare, but as soon as you are able, I expect you to tell me what happened.

    If we cannot figure things out, if it goes beyond the physical, then you will see Sir Josef, or we will see Sir Josef. Are we agreed? Damn, he was good. The baritone vibrato of his voice sent gooseflesh cascading down her body. Sir Piers opened a trunk, took out a pair of serious looking scissors, and began pulling out hanks of rope. Jute is the rope of choice in Japan. The three-ply twist leaves behind exquisite marks on the skin that are considered as beautiful as the bondage that created them.

    Clothing, of course, will lessen the effect on your legs and torso, but your hands and wrists will be exposed. I shall have to pay particular attention to them. Make them pretty, hmm? Please, Sir. Take off your shoes and socks.

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    When you come back, I need you to lie on the table, princess. Just like Sleeping Beauty, to be wrapped in vines and then set free. The bathroom was a spa—black marble and glass, complete with a steam shower, a jetted soaker tub, a commode, and a bidet. Elly emerged sans shoes and socks, as instructed, ready for however long their session lasted.

    Sir Piers positioned her on her back, placed a small pillow under her head, and made certain she was comfortable before he began. He fashioned cuffs of rope, making a series of knots that laced her arms from wrist to elbow. He bound her ankles and adorned her feet, using a rope thin enough to weave between her toes. Book Carnal Passions is the first short story collection from erotica author Kenna Divens.

    A Reawakening Cassie is a rigid woman with strong principles, but is married to a man by the name of Kirk who would rather chase loose women around town than sexually please his wife. With a mindset to stop Kirk from his infidelities, Cassie forces him to move to a small town. The Lemonade Steve met his wife Maggie at a party; she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Steve knew that he had to make Maggie his. The only problem was that Maggie was a modern day woman who would be hard to train into a submissive house wife, but with some trial and error Steve was able to do just that.

    The Top Shop At Top Shop, the clothes are the finest in all the land, hand sewn by the finest young tailors. Lauren And Hardy To the outside world, Lauren and Jacob are an ill-matched pair — she is the fattest girl in town and he is the skinniest guy. No one in town understands the attraction between them.

    But to Jacob, she is a sex siren, a vixen, and he loves every curve of her very voluptuous body. And Lauren loves the man who makes her feel sexy and beautiful and who so enjoys exploring her body. My Foolish Accountant Ethan is a foolish although extremely sexy accountant. Naked Fridays Everybody likes Collette and loves what she has been doing for the company, but when she suggests having Naked Fridays as a part of a team-building exercise, her ideas begin to start sounding a little too far out.

    Vanished In Thin Air Jane was a bright young woman, always excelling at everything she did. But one fine day, she wakes up to a totally different world. On Cloud Nine How did Leah land on the clouds, not metaphorically, but literally? Who is the lovely man in golden armor and why was he so bent upon giving pleasure to Leah? She is informed that she was selected out of all the women because she is the prettiest, to be the new princess of the land.

    The Carnal Chess Ivan and Frederick are two world-class chess masters who have competed publicly many times, but this is their first time competing in private. The rules of the game are such: Either King can do whatever they desire with the other players losing pieces. With so much on the line, they might as well immerse themselves with a little deviant pleasure. Kenna Divens.

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    More in erotica. See more. Chaney Kees. Shala Breece. Danika Falls. Kellen Prime. Similar ebooks. Rocky is the most unlikely of tailors, an Adonis perhaps, but not a tailor. Circumstances have forced him to close his shop and look for work in Published: October 8, by Xplicit Press.

    How did Leah land on the clouds, not metaphorically, but literally? Who is the lovely man in golden armor and why was he so bent upon giving pleasure to Leah? These are just some of the questions our protagonist is struggling with. As the day goes by, Leah wonders if she should go back to earth, but the things that her new lover does make her think twice Words: 2, Published: September 28, by Xplicit Press.

    Jane was a bright girl, always excelling at everything she did. But one fine day, she wakes up to a totally different world. Could the tall and handsome Leo really be her husband? Published: September 9, by Xplicit Press. To the outside world, Lauren and Jacob are an ill-matched pair — she is the fattest girl in town and he is the skinniest guy.