Monday, 15 February 2016

Blue Monday

Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment!

Today, a sneak preview from Falling Deep, which has is currently scheduled for release on 2nd March!

Trainee sorceress Liz is meeting up with Evan, the fifth of the Twelve Months she has to pleasure in order to turn the Wheel of the Year.

"Put your hands on the saddle."


"You heard me."

Biting the inside of her lip, Liz turned her back and placed her hands on the horse's saddle. They looked pale and tiny on the dark leather.

"You see," said Evan, coming in so close behind her that she could feel the radiant warmth of his body, "there are just some things that cannot be learned from books, or lists, or even from those who know. Obedience, for one. Hold this."

The riding crop, that implement of promise and pain, appeared in front of her eyes as he presented it horizontally. For a moment Liz had no idea what he meant, but understanding came swiftly as it nudged her lips. She caught the fresh scent of her own sex on the leather, then she opened her mouth and accepted the bar, gripping it between her teeth like a bit.

She realized at once that he had robbed her of words.

"Obedience, and surrender, and the natural order of things." With both hands now free, it was easy for Evan to lift her skirts and explore beneath. One big hot hand cupped her ass-cheek firmly to steady her. The other slipped down and between, into the unshielded cleft and the plump soft folds beneath.

It turned out that the blush had run all the way through her and was now seeping into the slit of her pussy. Evan made a small approving noise as he discovered her wetness.

 "You won't find them in a hundred thousand books, little librarian. You won't find them on the city streets, you can't learn them on your Internet, you won't pick them up in college. Things like that are in the blood, and the earth. The deep and the dirt of life." His fingertips swept her fore and aft, spreading the moisture to slick every inch. "Do you understand?"

Gagged as she was, Liz couldn't possibly reply - but as his finger circled her clit a squeak did escape from her open throat. That only encouraged him to do it again. And again. His big, callused fingertip felt deliciously, deliriously alien down there and she shuddered, jerking her thighs a few inches further apart. He rewarded her candor by slipping his spare hand between her bum-cheeks, pushing hard with side of his hand against the pucker of her rear hole. The pressure felt almost comforting.

"Maybe you do." His voice was low, somewhere between a growl and a caress, his breath hot in her ear. "What you need if you are to be an Argante is not to be found in your head. It's down here, where you're dumbest - and wisest. Feel how wet you are?"

Liz groaned out loud. She squeezed her eyes shut, water leaking from the corners. She knew her ass was out-thrust now to grant him easier access, but she couldn't help it. Her pussy was begging for more.

"Oh yes. So wet." He chuckled, deep and filthy. "Your body knows, doesn't it? Your body knows how you need to get dirty." On that last word he pressed his thumb against her anus, just as his fingertip swept over the sensitive round of her clit. It was too much - or just enough - because orgasm sparked and tumbled and flared through Liz's flesh, catching her off-guard, making her keen out loud and jerk repeatedly and push back on the hard jut of his thumb, as if to impale herself on it.

"Filthy girl," he murmured, but it wasn't criticism.

"Ahh," she groaned around the riding crop gag.

But to her chagrin he wasn't done with her. His fingers were already slipping back in to bathe themselves in her sex juices, actually entering her this time. She felt him slide two thick fingers inside her and scissor them open them to test the give of her flesh. She made a small noise of protest and danced her hips away from his invasive touch.

Without hesitation he clapped a hand hard to her ass-cheek. "Stand still!"

Instinct froze her, obedient to his command. She felt his big hand squeeze her bum and heft her up on the tips of her toes.

"Legs open," he told her, settling her down again. "That's better. Good girl."

Hands were on and in her sex again. Firm and sure and most definitely not asking. Rubbing her clit and spreading her lips and trespassing into the cleft of her ass, pressing up against the tight pucker of her rear hole in a manner she at first took for accidental over-enthusiasm, and then realized - with a shock - was entirely deliberate. And very purposeful. His finger, lubed with her own juices, was boldly going where no man had gone before.

Liz would have said something, but the crop in her mouth rendered her speechless - all she could do was utter a high yelping moan.          

"The mysteries are not in your head, book-girl. They are down here."

Dear god - he was going in. Milimeter by teasing, probing millimeter. She could feel everything. She'd had no idea how much she could feel back there. It was far more sensitive than her sexual entrance, in fact - and far more frightening. She'd had things pushed into her vagina before - cocks, tampons, that cold plastic speculum at the doctor's - but she'd never had anything inserted in her asshole. It was just too private.

But it wasn't painful, it turned out. Not at all. Quite the opposite.

"Magic is not learned. It is not about control. It is about yielding to the powers. It is about knowing your place in the great workings of the world."

Liz shuddered. This felt terrifyingly intimate, an invasion of her most secret places. He had a finger right inside her tight clench now, stirring her, stroking her. She was awash with shame. She could feel her sweat and her juices slathering his hands. Her clit sang at his touch. Hot shivery plumes of sensation ran up her spine and across her shoulders, down her legs to the tips of her toes.

"It is all about surrender. Yes. There, that's right."

To her amazement her ass was unfurling, no longer resisting his entry. He could run a finger in and out smoothly, each stroke a caress that sent her nerve endings into tumbling fountains of delight and terror.

"Doesn't that feel good? Isn't that good when you stop fighting me?"

She groaned her acquiescence.

"Good girl. That's nice." His voice was almost a sigh. "That's one finger, nice and easy." He circled it, spreading her, while his other hand played with her clit. "You can take two, you know. No problem at all."

Liz widened her eyes, though he could not see, and yelped softly.

"You don't believe me?"

Her groans were coming thick and fast now. There was no point in preserving any dignity, after all. His strokes were unhurried and very sure. He was not rushing her - he didn't have to. Her treacherous body was already opening up to him, lulled by his masterful working of her clit. For all the fear and the shame in her head, her body trusted him. It wasn't even attempting to resist any more. Tight whorls of muscle grew slack. She could feel a hum of pleasure in her spine.

"You should. I think you have a talent for this, book-girl. You're getting more welcoming by the second. You're opening up inside, you know …." There was momentary adjustment of his hand, an increase in pressure. "There. That's two. I think you'll find that more satisfying."

"Oh!" said Liz, muffled, then nodded frantically. He was curling them inside her now, stroking her inner walls.

"You like a good ass-frigging, don't you. You like it dirty."

I don't! she thought - but her body begged to differ. There were sensations washing up and down her backbone that she was barely familiar with - if they'd been centered on her pussy she'd have known them for the precursors of orgasm, but they were in the wrong place, up her ass - How can you have an orgasm up your ass-?

"Come on, book-girl. That's right. Come for me."

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