Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Mastered Preview - Portia Da Costa

Over the next ten days, I be posting links and excerpts to the wonderful stories that make up the Mastered: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender box set. I'm immensely proud to be part of this group of fantastic authors, and especially to kick off with a snippet from a good friend of mine, Portia Da Costa.

Quiet storm…

Ben Chambers is the perfect, handsome boyfriend. Sarah adores him, but she suspects he has a secret. While away on a luxury vacation, a simple act of cheeky affection unravels Ben’s wicked ways. And she’s more than willing to see how deep they go.

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Excerpt from HIS SECRET by International and UK Sunday Times bestseller, Portia Da Costa

Sarah’s insides fluttered. Not just her sex, but in her heart, her chest. She felt as if she were on a precipice above some great, secret valley. Ready to fling herself forward.

When Ben released her sex, it was as much of a shock as if he’d suddenly begun
the spanking already. The lack of his fingers against her was like a gouging void that
she’d do anything to fill.

“Lie across the bed,” he said quietly. “ Facedown, with your hands stretched out
in front of you… You may look in my direction or away… that’s your choice.”

Almost unable to move properly from excitement, she obeyed him. Her limbs
seemed to be made of rubber and uncontrollable, but she managed to assume the pose
he’d specified. She was afraid to look at him, so turned her face away, even though in
her mind she could still see him perfectly.

“Good. That’s very good. You’re doing well.”

Am I? I don’t think so… I’m all over the place.

She felt the mattress dip and imagined Ben inclining toward her, his weight on
one hand while with the other he reached out toward her exposed bottom.
Expecting a spank and braced for it, she gasped when the first touch was light
and exploratory.

It won’t be so bad. It’s my first time. I bet he barely does anything at all.
And indeed, the second touch was nothing at all. Just a tap on her left buttock,
barely more than the light touch that had started all this, close to an hour ago, yet in
another lifetime.

Then… more taps. A little harder. Definitely making an impact, but still fine.

I’m okay. I can take this. It’s all right.

In fact, it was more than all right. Her sex was glowing, becoming soft and
pouched and wetter than ever. The slight impact of the little smacks was gently
knocking her core where she was pressed against the mattress.

“Oh!”

How had that happened? One minute, soft taps, and then, suddenly, with no
discernable increase in effort, the taps weren’t taps any more but full-blown spanks.
And they were hard. They hurt. They really hurt.

“Oh!” she cried again when Ben’s hand seemed to catch a particularly tender
spot on the under-hang of her cheek. Her whole bottom was glowing now, drenched
in heat. It was uncomfortable, unsettling, quite painful, and yet the shivering warmth
in her flesh was sinking down into her sex and firing it up in a way she’d never yet
experienced. Her whole pussy seemed to be fizzing like the champagne had done.
Effervescing with a delicious yet forbidden pleasure.

How? Oh, how is this happening? He’s hurting me, yet… yet… Oh God, I want
him to hurt me more!

To her astonishment, Sarah realized she was lifting her bottom in syncopation
with the slaps, raising the target up to improve Ben’s aim and to invite and seduce
more blows. She was simmering on the edge of orgasm, and every time he hit her, he
pushed her ever closer to the longed-for implosion of pleasure.

She cried out keenly when he stopped, and she turned her face to implore him
with her eyes. To beg him to grant her more pain, more pleasure… Oh, dear Lord, she
hardly knew the difference.

Ben’s eyes were beautiful, wise, and kind. Despite the fact that he was denying
her what she wanted. But he seemed to understand as he leaned forward to press a
kiss to her tearful cheek and whisper in her ear.

“You’re doing beautifully, Sarah, my love… Better than I could ever have
wished. But you must wait a little for your prize. The waiting will make it all the more
sweeter.”

Even though she was sobbing with need, with frustration, and from the now
extreme soreness in the flesh of her bottom, she believed him. She believed him
utterly.

He was Ben. He knew all. He was her sweet master.


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