"At a time when airplanes are as new-fangled and sensational as the telephone, Faith dares to fly. The one territory she has not explored is her own sexuality. In Leonhardt she discovers the man who can teach her how a woman surrenders her body and her mind. However, Leonhardt has a shadowed past and his own learning to do. He doesn't have the right to keep Faith from flying, even if he thinks airplanes are flimsy death-traps made of canvas, timber and their inventor's prayers.
Faith has her limits, Leonhardt has his flaws, and sometimes the nicest people get murdered by unscrupulous bastards. Even if Leonhardt can save the woman he loves, the battle for Faith’s heart will be the hardest one of all.
WARNING: BDSM, anal sex, orgasms galore, and a Dom who likes to claim his property with pen, ink and bondage."
“You can’t just announce that sort of thing, sir!” This time the sir was an acerbic one and not all respectful. “We barely know anything about each other. Well. Um.” A blush swept hotly across her face. How silly. Faith huffed. “This time I do want to be untied.”
Leonhardt cocked his head and the mischievous malevolence on his face turned purposeful.
“Oh. You say this, do you, Miss Faith Evard? And I say I’m not done with you yet.”
“What?” she squeaked. “You’re to stop. Right now, sir. Or--”
“Or what? You’ll scream? That could be embarrassing for you.” He slipped his hand back and dipped his finger between her legs, slicking the cream of her juices forward and swirling around and around her clitoris, as if his fingertip were a pen doodling circles on paper. Each feathery touch that glanced off the nub sent out tiny shocks.
“I... I-- Stop that, please. You said you’d stop, if I...uh...asked you to.” She squirmed, unsure if she wanted to somehow make that light touch go closer, or to wriggle away.
“I’m not done with you. One minute of your time,” he said calmly, doodling around and now, at times, steering across her clit. “If you still say no, I’ll honor it.”
Feeling a step removed from reality, as if he were gradually drawing a veil over her world, Faith watched him sit up, fish around in the pile of his clothes while still touching her, and emerge with a pocket watch. She licked her lower lip. Already her clitoris swelled, throbbed, maybe in time with his blasted clock. If she didn’t stop him, it wouldn’t mean she had to marry him, would it? No.
“Mr. Meisner. Please stop.” She gave a stifled groan.
“Here. One minute.” Without stopping his circling, he placed the watch on her belly button, nestling it there and then draping the cold watch chain over her skin until the clasp at the end dangled from his hand, swaying, on her nipple. The metal tap, tap, tapped and her nipple peaked hard.
She bit her lip and sucked in air, watching the chain in his fingers tap upon her. Past that, up the slope of her stomach, his other hand played among her pubic hair. Heat rose, sifting, curling. She clamped her lips together but the little sounds came out and she strained against the cords. Her hands were twisting under the pillows and, damn him, he knew it.
“Starting, now.” Leaving the watch chain laid in a line across her belly, he shifted and knelt between her legs. Mr. Meisner put his hand under her bottom, with the little finger atop her nether hole--somewhere it surely shouldn’t be?
Oh. What was that? Yet another new and entirely queer sensation. Did that little finger press in a fraction? Some muscle down there, tensed, relaxed.
No. He mustn’t.
Frowning, she stared incredulously at the man. Mr. Meisner met her gaze then settled his other hand with the V of two fingers framing her clitoris, and popped his thumb into her vagina. She jumped, clamping her jaw on the gasp that almost escaped.
“Twenty seconds, my dear. Do speak up.” With his eyes focused on hers, he leisurely lowered his mouth and put his lips over the top of her oversensitized nub.
Mmm. She tensed, her thighs quivering in, tight on his shoulders.
His tongue swirled.
As one, her eyes snapped shut, her neck arched and her head flopped back onto the mattress. She groaned. His mouth was on her, in her most intimate place. Unimaginable, glorious and so naughty, all at once. She hadn’t known what a clitoris was until this day, and now she wondered if the poor thing could ever expire from overuse.
The tendrils of arousal were seeking out her sexual parts and filling them tight, pumping into her, expanding. She was breathing like an over-stoked steam engine, like a dog in the hot sun, like a woman who needed, oh so badly, to orgasm.
He lifted his mouth off her. “I’ll take that as a, yes, I want you to keep doing that.”
She peeked through eyelashes, seeing her breasts heave up and down and the watch chain slither off to the side.
He angled up an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Yes, damn you! Sir.” Heat rippled deep into her stomach, making everywhere ache and her nipples poke up like little turrets. Put your mouth back. God!
“Then we shall see each other for the next ten days? And you won’t reject the idea of discussing marriage, out of hand?”
He put his head down and sucked the burgeoning nub up against his tongue. Wet heat. Soft, lazy strokes. Heaven. She groaned, muscles tightening like a sprinter about to bolt. She wanted to claw at his hair, at his shoulders but her hands were roped to her ankles, her body angled like a launching ramp straight to his glorious, licking mouth. One more lick. One more. Impossible, but she tensed even tighter, harder. Her thighs had found his body where he knelt between her legs, crushing him so much he’d likely have marks.
Another moist lick sent her hurtling into an orgasm. “Umnhh!” She rode out the crashing shudders and jerks with her neck and body arching into the bonds, her nails digging into the flesh of ankles. The cries seemed to come from the throat of another, distant woman. More spasms wracked her, before the ceiling rematerialized in her dazed sight.
Maybe she wouldn’t be able to ever move again. Ecstasy had found her, left an indelible mark on her soul and had liquefied her very bones. Leonhardt could have poured her into a jar and bottled her if he’d been so inclined.
When he pulled away the pillows and rolled her over so she was on her front, with her bottom now upward, she only bothered to turn her head to one side to breathe. A languor possessed her whole body. Maybe she had gone to heaven?
Title: Rough Surrender
Author: Cari Silverwood
Genre: BDSM, Historical Romance/Fantasy, Mystery, Romance, Suspense,
Publisher: Lyrical Press