Category Archives: Excerpts

New Release: Becoming His Bride

cover

New release! Only three years later than expected. That’s some damn fine performance on my end, if I do say so.

The final novella in the Under His Roof series, Becoming His Bride takes us back to the lives of David and Rachel as they plan their perfect wedding. I actually wrote this three years ago–on time!–but hadn’t edited it for release until now. Reading it after so long was entertaining; I found myself giggling at some of the conversations. There’s a scene where the words ‘Jingle Bell Cock’ come out of Rachel’s mouth. What the hell was I thinking!?

The link to buy on Amazon is here. I’ll put it up for Nook readers and Kobo folks soon.

Excerpt:

“Ow! This is hurting me!”

David flashes me a grin, which he knows is infuriating, and his eyes are sparkling.

“Usually you say that under different circumstances,” he says. “Now, on three. One, two, three!”

On his cue, we heft the tree into the bed of his truck. I brush pine needles off my legs and pick them from my gloved hands.

“I told you, it’s too big,” I say, taking a step back and surveying the situation. The tree we’ve picked out is enormous, and the top half is hanging off the back of the truck. There’s no way we can make the two-hour trek back home with a dangling pine tree dragging behind us.

“Relax. Like I said, I’ve done this before.” He hops up next to the tree, grabs the twine he’s packed, and turns back to me. “You know how good I am with knots.”

I glare at him, and he glares right back at me.

“Watch yourself. Why don’t you go get us some hot cider? You stick around here any longer and you’ll end up tied to this tree.”

I stomp off, annoyed by his good mood. We’ve been elected by the Jacobs’ family to host Christmas this year, which meant David wanted the biggest tree that could possibly fit in our living room, which in turn meant a long drive to Avery County, where the best trees apparently grow, and that meant that I’d been sentenced to a Sunday afternoon of trampling through a snowy forest of pines, freezing my ass off, and getting pricked by pine needles.

I don’t mind hosting Christmas. David and his siblings grew up in our house, and it made sense that we’d congregate there for a family holiday. I look forward to Christmas day—getting together, sharing a meal, opening presents, it’d all be great.

It was the preparations that were getting to me.

As I walk into the lodge to buy the cider, I sigh, knowing this is my own damn fault. David suggested he get the tree with his brother, Mitchell, but I insisted on coming along, thinking it’d be nice to spend the day with him. Boy, was I wrong. I hate being cold, and it’s a good fifteen degrees cooler here than it is in Asheville.

I should be home, with our golden retriever Sparky, reading a book and relaxing in the warmth of the house. Instead, I’m in the country, surrounded by mountain people, cutting down a tree like a damn lumberjack.

“Two hot ciders, please,” I say to the flannel-wearing teenager behind the counter. Her brown hair is in a long braid, falling down to her butt. She nods and grabs two styrofoam cups from beside the register.

“Law, I hope how soon we see some of that green grass again,” drawls the lady behind me. I turn, realizing she’s talking to me.

What the hell did she just say?

I nod politely. “Yeah.”

This is not the North Carolina I know and love. I fumble with my coin purse, fishing out the dollar-fifty for our drinks, and hand it over to the girl. She smiles and says, “Merry Christmas,” as I bolt out the door, scowling to myself.

Why do people insist on saying ‘Merry Christmas’ every single day after Thanksgiving? It’s the beginning of December—Christmas isn’t for three weeks.

Back at the truck, David’s managed to heft the trunk of the tree up on top of the cab, and he’s tied it all down with lengths of thick twine. He’s leaning against the driver’s door, looking out into the distance.

“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” he says, taking his cider from my hands. “Fresh air. Forests. Good people.”

“It’s cold.”

“Yeah. I told you to wear your other coat.”

My thicker jacket is what I wear only when it’s seriously freezing, because I think it makes me look fat, which David thinks is ridiculous. Ridiculous and vain were his exact words, actually.

I frown and stand beside him, taking a sip. It’s hot, feels good, and tastes like apple pie.

“All right,” he says as I shiver. “Let’s get you home.”

I climb in, and he’s had the heater running so the truck is nice and toasty. He pulls out onto the road and I tug off my gloves, tossing them on the seat between us.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds me, and I roll my eyes. After I buckle up, I sip my cider, electing to keep quiet, since I know nothing that comes out of my mouth at the moment will be in my best interest.

It’s been three and a half months since David and I got engaged, and in that time I’ve definitely learned many lessons about when to shut the hell up. Though all I want to do at the moment is snap at him, I know it’s not his fault it’s so freaking cold. It is his fault that it took a full two hours to find the ‘perfect’ tree—in a sea of nearly identical, equally fine choices.

“Shit!” David exclaims, and I look up to see a buck running in front of the truck. He slams on the brakes and my cider spills over my hands.

“David, damn it!” I yell. I stomp my foot on the floorboard and open the window, chucking the cup outside.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.” I wipe my wet hands on the seat. “You braked really hard.”

“Rach, there was a deer in the road. Would you have rather I hit it?”

“You wouldn’t have hit it.”

“Yes, I would’ve. Way to go, by the way. Littering.” He shakes his head, clearly annoyed.

“No, you wouldn’t have hit it. And I was just getting rid of a cup that you got all sticky and wet.”

He sighs. “That’s it.”

“What’s what?” I snap, knowing full well what he means. ‘That’s it’ is code for ‘You’ve pushed enough of my buttons today’. I know I have. I know I’ve been bitchy. But I also know I have a two hour car trip to make it up to him, and frankly, I’m just not worried about pissing him off at the moment. I’m grouchy. Grouchy people deserve melancholic company, unlike the joyful demeanor that’s been radiating from David all day. It’s like he’s been injected with actual holiday spirit.

He pulls over to the side of the road and puts the truck in park. I look at him, confused, as he takes the key from the ignition. He shoots me a stern look and gets out, marching around the front of the truck. Then he opens my door, unbuckles my seatbelt, and yanks me out.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demand.

He ignores me and hauls me toward the forest. There’s a narrow foot path, and I see a sign, partially hidden behind overgrowth. Apparently this is a hiking spot. There are no footprints in the snow, though, so it’s clearly not very popular.

I have a sinking feeling in my belly that David and I are not about to go on a hike.

“What are you doing?” I ask again. We’re about twenty feet into the forest, and he stops, turns me to face him, and stares down at me. His eyes are icy like the chill around us and he’s frowning.

“You have been a complete pain since we got out of the truck to find the tree.”

“No I haven’t!” I try, unsuccessfully, to shake his grip of my upper arm.

“Yes, you have. You know what happens when you get that attitude. Especially when you get it with me.”

“You can’t spank me.” I look around, frantic. “Not here. Not outside. Someone will see.”

He lets go of me and unbuttons my jeans while I attempt to stop him. He’s too strong. He yanks down my pants and suddenly I’m bare-assed, in the woods, in the freezing cold.

“David! You can’t!”

“Shout like that, and you’re right, someone might hear you and see you getting your ass spanked for being so rude,” he says. He puts his foot up on a large rock beside the trail and bends me over his knee. “Anything you want to say to me?”

“It’s too cold. I’ll get hypothermia.” Though I’m staring at the snow-covered ground, I can almost see his face as I utter those words. He’s probably rolling his eyes. I wiggle, trying to get up, but he holds me tight.

“You’ll be warm soon.”

He spanks my ass hard, and I’m totally not prepared for the onslaught of pain. I cry out and kick, and I hit his leg with my fists.

“Stop, please! Ow! David! Owwww.”

After less than a minute, I relent and stop struggling, and take the spanking I know I deserve. He stops just after I’ve calmed, and pulls me to my feet. Standing in front of him, my pants around my ankles, I look down to the ground.

“Now, are you going to apologize? Or should I cut a branch off one of these trees and continue?”

I tremble at the thought, and shake my head. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For being rude.” There’s a lump in my throat and I swallow hard. “For ruining your afternoon.”

“Good girl.” He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight. “You haven’t ruined my afternoon. Now, if you can manage to be polite, we’ll have a nice ride. If you can’t fix your rudeness right now, then keep your mouth shut, or you’ll be in for a long punishment when we get home. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

He bends down and pulls my pants up, and I button them. Then I bite my lower lip and look up at him, feeling sheepish.

“I think it’s the weather,” I explain as we trudge back to the truck.

“Sure.” He glances back at me, and the look on his face tells me he doesn’t think the weather has anything to do with my sour mood.

About ten minutes later, as we’re cruising down the road, my ass is still warm and my spirits have lifted. I start talking about our Christmas menu, and David grins at me, sliding his hand over my thigh and squeezing gently.

When we get home, I remind myself to be nice as he unties the tree. I let Sparky out, and he comes to watch us as we struggle to unload the tree and carry it into the living room. We get it standing, and I sweep the stray pine needles from the wooden floor as David unwraps the mesh around it, freeing the branches. He turns the tree, stands back, then turns it some more until he has it right where he likes it.

“What do you think?” he asks, admiring it from the middle of the room.

“It’s perfect.” I snuggle into him, and he drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“I think so, too. Our first Christmas together. It’s gonna be great.”

Here’s the link again to Becoming His Bride on Amazon, and let’s hope the next book doesn’t take so damn long!

Wishing you all well.

xoxo
Sadey

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New Release: Bad Girl Good

bad girl good

 

It’s Release Day! Happy Release Day to ME!

Bad Girl Good is available for the Amazon Kindle.

SQUEEEEEE!!!!! I’m so excited about this novella! It’s got lots of sex, lots of spankings, a little humiliation and some minor anal play. It’s fun, light-hearted, and I had an absolute blast writing it.

The excerpt is here, the link to buy is here, and the smile? Well, that’s located on my face, and there’s no link for that. Yet.

Enjoy the weekend!

xoxo
Sadey

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Saturday Spankings! Spanktastic

Welcome to Saturday Spankings! To read more spanking excerpts, head over to the #SatSpanks HQ.

Below is a short snippet from Spanktastic: 22 Erotic Spanking Short Stories.

I took the beating well and looked over to Christina often. She was crying, her mouth still open wide in disbelief. Her hands were clutched in front of her now, her arms shaking. The poor thing was miserable and terrified.

Too bad she couldn’t look on the bright side like me.

After fifteen lashes from Jake’s leather belt, he stopped. He rubbed my ass and I pushed back into his hands, begging him with my body to touch me more. His hand slid between my legs and felt my pussy. He squeezed each lip and flicked my clit.

“I’m going to need your help with Christina,” he said.

Spanktastic is available from:
Print Edition
Amazon Kindle
Barnes and Noble Nook
KOBO eBooks
All Romance eBooks

xoxo
Sadey

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Saturday Spankings! Excerpt from ‘Taking His Hand’

Welcome to Saturday Spankings! Lots of spankeriffic authors are sharing excerpts from their spanking stories today. See this page for the complete list.

Here’s an excerpt from my latest spanking novella, Taking His Hand.

—–

Rachel and I stand quietly, looking at each other, for a few long moments. I try to make my expression as unreadable as possible until I hear the front door slam. Then I slowly turn my lips into a huge grin.

Rachel shrieks and sprints out into the yard. I burst out laughing as I run after her. She’s got nothing to be afraid of and she should know that. As she gets to the fence, she turns around to look at me. I slow down to a jog, anticipating that she’ll try to dodge me and run back toward the house.

She bites her lip in a totally sexy way. As she dives to the right to slip by me, I jump out and catch her waist in my hands. In one solid motion, I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder.

I’ve always wanted to do this to a girl. Rachel’s perfect for it.

She starts pounding on my back, but she’s not hitting hard. “Let me down! I can walk, I promise!”

You can also run,” I muse. “Wouldn’t want that.”

Inside, I walk straight to the bedroom. She tenses at the end of the hallway and I know what she’s thinking. Across from the bedroom is the discipline room. But today, I don’t want to cause her pain.

I’m going to show her some amazing pleasure.

I gently set her down on the bed and whisper, “Don’t move. I’m not going to hurt you, sweetie.”

You said you were going to spank me.”

I am.”

And how—”

I cut her off with a stern look and push her back to lay down on the bed. Slowly, I straddle her and lean forward to give her the most gentle kiss I can muster. I want her to calm down before I heat her up. As I kiss her, I touch her, running my hand up her shirt, over her stomach, up along the edges of her breasts. She moans as I reach under her to unhook her bra.

Trust me, baby?” I ask as I break away. Her bra is tricky and I can’t kiss and unhook it all at once.

Yes,” she whispers. Her face is flushed. She’s going to love this.

I sit her up and pull off her shirt and her bra. Her breasts are perfect, round and supple, and I lean down to kiss each of her nipples. They’re already excited and hard. I put my ear against her chest and listen to her heartbeat. It’s fast.

You’re so fucking hot, Rachel,” I say, moving up to kiss her hard. Our tongues dance and as I hold her wrists with one hand, I reach down to slip a hand under her skirt. Through her panties, even, I can tell she’s wet.

Her skirt must have a zipper somewhere, but I can’t find it. I pull away from her mouth again, peck her nose, and sit up to study the damn thing. “This skirt is a puzzle. How the hell do I get it off?” I ask, turning her this way and that, making her giggle.

Here.” She rolls over and points to the waistline of the skirt, just below her tailbone. There’s a panel of fabric over it, concealing it. This skirt was not designed by a straight man.

Mmm, perfect.” I smile to myself. As I unzip it, she raises her hips a little, letting me lower it over her legs and feet. I throw it to the floor, pushing off her shoes as well.

She stays put on her stomach, looking back at me shyly. I admire her unabashedly while she waits for me to continue. Her legs are so perfect, leading up to her exquisite ass. I trail my fingers along her calves, up her inner thighs, until I’m between her legs.

Do you want me to touch you?” I ask.

She whimpers in a cute way and nods her head.

Then ask me to give you a little spanking.” I continue touching her, so close to her sex, and she parts her legs a little.

But David,” she says, her voice a little whiny. I frown at her and she clamps her mouth shut.

Later, she’ll understand what an erotic spanking is. She’ll look forward to them. She’ll beg me to spank her. Now, though, I want her to be nervous. It’s part of the fun.

Please spank me,” she finally whispers. Then she throws her face into the pillow and I know she’s embarrassed.

Smiling to myself, I lie sideways beside her, below her breasts, and give her ass five quick, light slaps. She groans, but I know I didn’t hurt her. Then, I run my hand between her legs, swirl my fingers around her clit through her panties, and, just as quickly, remove my hand.

Rachel whimpers. I spank her a few more times before repeating the exact same thing. I pull her panties aside, giving me access to her, and she whispers, “Take them off, please.”

Good girl,” I say, rewarding her with a few more slaps. I yank them down, over her feet, and throw them next to her skirt. She’s lying there, practically panting, and I’m wondering how I’m going to stop myself from taking her too quickly.

I really, really, want her to enjoy this.

I decide a position change is in order. “Sit up, sweetie,” I say, tugging her up to kneel beside me. Then, I take my spot at the head of the bed, my back against the headboard. Patting my lap, I give her a look. She knows what I want, crawls over to me, and puts herself over my lap.

She really is a good girl.

I give her ten swats before touching her again. Looking down at her, over my lap, is intense. I know she can feel me against her stomach and I’m hoping that some of the wiggling she’s doing is intentional, for my benefit. I look at her head, but she’s hiding her face. Her arousal, though, is obvious. When I slide my hand in between her legs once again, she lets out a moan—guttural and beautiful at once.

Not all spankings have to be for discipline,” I say, swatting her again. “Are you enjoying this?”

She nods her head and the back of her neck turns a sweet shade of red. She’s too shy to admit she’s loving this.

I rub her behind for awhile, spanking her now and again, until she starts gyrating her hips against my legs. That is too fucking much for me. I flip her off my lap, onto her back, with her head at the foot of my bed. I take off my jeans as fast as I can.

You’re mine,” I say as I position myself in between her legs. “Understand?”

She nods as I slide inside of her, making her groan.

Good girl.” I look into her eyes and she locks her gaze in mine as we make love. When I feel her getting close, when her moans get louder, I thrust deep and hard. I look down at her intensely and she cries out louder than ever before. She’s explosive around me, and I can’t hold back anymore. We climax together. It’s magnificent.

I roll off her, taking hold of her hand, and catch my breath. I’m a bit stunned. When I turn to look at her, she’s gazing at me. I touch her cheek and give her a soft smile.

I liked that,” she says.

My heart throbs with joy. “Me too, baby.”

—–

Available on Amazon! Pick up a copy of Taking His Hand, book two in the Under His Roof series.

Visit the blogs here for more steamy spanking excerpts!

xoxo
Sadey

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Coming Together: Hungry for Love

Here’s another little reminder about Sommer Marsden’s new collection, Coming Together: Hungry for Love.

(So I just scrolled through my blog and realized my last post on this very topic was two entries ago…I’m gonna update more, ‘k? Promise.)

To share a little about the book, some of the contributors have been writing up their ‘Story behind the story’. Check them out; they’re fantastic, and all on Sommer’s blog–you just need to scroll through some of her recent entries.

Here’s mine:

I love power dynamics. Kink, bondage, and all the glitter aside…what really gets me going is domination, submission, and the intricate mental gymnastics related to power exchange. I love power hungry, arrogant doms, and I love calm, cool alphas who subtly take control. I love bratty subs who push limits just as much as I love the subs who truly, to their very core, want to obey.

Often, my writing reflects this passion (obsession?) of mine. So, naturally, when I sat down to write ‘Zombie Goddess’–my story for Sommer Marsden’s collection of zombie erotica–I played with the theme of power, control, and what might happen in a BDSM scene starring a human and a zombie.

Another concept I messed around with for this story is making the typical antagonist–the decrepit, brain-hungry zombie–into my protagonist. I wanted my zombie to feel amazing, empowered, and…well, I wanted her to feel hot. So my star is a sexy, newly un-dead zombie woman. She’s not after brains to eat. Instead, she’s learning to enjoy finding minds to fuck.

An excerpt from my story, Zombie Goddess, is here.

More soon, neglected readers of awesome!

xoxo
Sadey

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Halloween! We’re Hungry for Love

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Photo by Evan Leesson

With perhaps the most appropriate timing ever, Sommer Marsden’s new collection of zombie erotica (you read that right) is available now! I can’t think of anything better to do on Halloween night than curling up with some hot apple cider and enjoying a sexy new book.

That is a lie. I can think of better things to do that involve real-life penises and vaginas.

Maybe, in a perfect world, I’d do both. You can grab a copy of Coming Together: Hungry for Love through one of the venues listed below (or click the link to go straight to Amazon). Proceeds benefit the American Diabetes Association.

That’s right. Coming for a good cause.

I wrote a story for this collection called ‘Zombie Goddess’. Here’s a little excerpt:

Our attention turns to a large, black man who steps forward toward the crowd. He paces in front of us slowly. His arms are thick and muscular, and he holds a long leather flogger in his right hand. Finally, he pauses and regards the spectators with disdain.

“And who will it be tonight?” he shouts.

The silence is deafening. People look around, wondering who will volunteer. A few of them shrink back, like they don’t want to be seen.

“Here we go,” Jasper whispers. He clears his throat and announces, “This one!” He pushes me firmly forward.

“But why?” I hiss, trying to resist.

“You want to freak out the mortals, right?”

“Well, yes…”

“Remember this: You can’t feel the pain.”

Oh. Right. I smile as I realize what Jasper is suggesting, and I turn toward the man. The power he feels, I feel it too. I see it in his eyes and I know I can beat him. I can win this stupid mortal game.

Grasping the hem of my dress, I lift it over my head, just breaking eye contact with the man for a moment. Then I walk toward him, my heels clicking on the tiled floor, my hips swaying from side to side. When I’m right in front of him, I put my hands on my hip and cock my head to the side.

“One rule,” I say.

“Oh?” He looks bemused.

“No touching me.”

His eyebrows furrow. “And why not?”

“I don’t like to be touched.” I shrug, as if it’s really no big deal. This is the point where he could realize my game, who I am, what I’m doing. But he doesn’t. He points to the cross and I put myself into place, my arms and legs spread wide apart, my back to the crowd.

“I have to touch you to tie you,” he says.

“You don’t have to tie me. I’ll stay in place.” I grasp the rope loops with my hands.

The man walks around the cross, eyeing me. “What’s your word?”

“I don’t need a word.”

He pauses when he’s by my face and growls, “You need a word if you want to play with me.”

I shrug, indifferent. “Mercy?”

“Mercy. Say it and I stop.”

“I won’t need to say it.”

The corners of his mouth turn up just slightly. “Is that a challenge?”

I look him straight in the eyes. “Do you want it to be?”

~~

Buy Coming Together: Hungry for Love at these online stores:

:) Happy Halloween, everyone!
xoxo
Sadey

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Excerpt: Under His Roof

Under His Roof is a domestic discipline novella about a professional disciplinarian and one of his clients, Rachel. It’s short–just 30,000 words–and the first in a series of three. So far I’m pleased with its reception. Though there are still no reviews (hint, hint), I’ve enjoyed lots of feedback from readers. And, sales are all right. I blame the cover.😉

Below is a short excerpt of Rachel’s first session with David. I hope you enjoy!

xoxo
Sadey

——-

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” I whisper.

“Take off your pants, please. You can leave your panties on for now.”

My hands are shaking as I hook my thumbs into the elastic band of my yoga pants. I slide them down over my hips, to my ankles, and kick them to the side.

David is not watching me and I’m grateful for that. He is busy positioning a large, straight-backed chair in the center of the room. Then he turns to me, smiles again, and comes to my side. He’s looking down at me and I’m so small and vulnerable next to him. I can barely hold back my tears. “Time to face the music, Rachel,” he says. He takes my hand and leads me to the chair. When he sits and pats his lap, I look at him like he’s crazy.

“C’mon, sweetie.” He is giving me a caring smile which I know is supposed to put me at ease but it’s impossible. I’m frozen. He grabs hold of my upper arm and gently tugs me until I’m falling, awkwardly, over his knees. “There you are.”

His hand is on my bottom and I’m tense. I place my own hands flat on the wooden floor and move my body a little until I feel like I’m in the right place. He chuckles, lifts my hips, and shifts me until my butt is high in the air.

“Remember that this is for your own good,” he says.

Is he going to start so soon?! I start to panic but he’s holding me firmly in place.

“Rachel, calm yourself down right now.”

I try my best and I can tell he’s giving me time. His hand is still on my behind, waiting patiently.

“Try unclenching your butt cheeks,” he suggests nonchalantly.

What?! I think to myself. I cannot believe David Jacobs, Professional Disciplinarian, has just suggested that I unclench my ass. But I remind myself that this is his thing, this is what he’s good at, and I relax my muscles.

Then his hand is gone for a moment, and the first slap lands on my bottom.

“Oh!” I gasp, though it does not hurt in the slightest.

“See? You’re OK. We’re going slow.”

So I relax. The sensation of being lightly spanked is actually oddly nice. I suspect that he is just making me comfortable before moving on to the second act of the afternoon, and I try to stay in the moment and enjoy the feeling. But then I scold myself. David is a professional. It wouldn’t be fair to him to be turned on by this. Still, I can’t help the tingling sensation that is building inside me.

He pauses for a moment. “You’re relaxed now. Feeling all right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good.”

Then it begins again, and he’s slapping a little harder now, stinging my bottom with each spank. It still is not horribly painful but it is beginning to hurt and I wiggle a little as I adjust to the sensations.

He spanks slowly, but steadily, alternating between each cheek so I know just what is coming next. And he is increasing the intensity a bit at a time, barely enough for me to realize what he is doing. I’m starting to appreciate that this guy really is a professional.

“Ouch!” I gasp after one stinging spank.

He tightens his grip on my waist and delivers another.

“Oh!”

And now he is really spanking me! It isn’t unbearable but it hurts, it hurts so much that I want to jump out of his lap! But I stay still, my hands firmly planted on the floor. Each slap stings my skin. It’s so much different now than the light slaps and I’m squirming, but he’s holding me tight. He’s started to land the spanks randomly, sometimes hitting the same place three or four times in a row before hitting somewhere else.

“Ouch! Oh! Please!”

My legs are kicking now, just a little, making my bottom dance as I try to shake the pain out of me. He is relentless and I think he may have forgotten I’m a beginner. After what feels like ages he pauses for a moment, planting his hand right back on my behind, reminding me that we aren’t done.

“Comfortable?”

“No!” I exclaim.

<<<<>>>>

Like it? Buy Under His Roof for your Kindle!
(Note: If you don’t own a Kindle, you can download the free Kindle program and read books on your PC) 

A combined print version of all the books in the series will be available by Winter 2012.

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