Pleasure Bound -- Out now from Ellora's Cave
Sam Tyler is thrilled to discover that her lover is whisking her away for a weekend of exotic luxury as a treat for her birthday. As a woman who knows just what she wants—her man all tied up like a living, breathing present—she’s quick to take advantage of his generous mood and begins planning a surprise of her own. One she fears he’s not going to like very much.
Things could be going better, Adam has to admit, as his plans for Sam’s birthday begin to unravel. Having thought that the biggest shock of the weekend would come courtesy of the diamond engagement ring he has stashed in his luggage, he’s rocked to his core to discover that the petite, feminine, woman he hopes to make his loving wife turns out to have a secret and very kinky side that wants to see him helplessly bound for her pleasure. Even with mind blowing sex as an incentive, it’s a hell of a tough ask for a man who insists on always being in control. Does he have the kind of strength it takes to surrender?
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An Excerpt From: PLEASURE BOUND
Copyright © KAT BLACK, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Making some hasty time-zone calculations, Sam estimated it would still be early morning in New York, and in an instant her mind filled with an image of a mussed hotel bed, its white sheet riding low on a set of lean-cut hips that widened out to a contoured expanse of bare, olive-skinned chest and broad shoulders—all topped off with a tousle of shiny dark hair and a certain heart-stopping, sleepy morning smile.
Oh boy. Her breath hitched and her fingers itched to dive into her pocket, but good business manners dictated that, outwardly at least, her attention remain on her clients until they were safely into the elevator and away.
Once the doors slid closed, she made sure to spare another moment to bestow praise on her beaming team then Sam turned to head down the glass- and carpet-lined corridor toward her office, phone already in hand.
All going well here, the text on the screen read. Return flight confirmed. Due back first thing Friday as hoped. A.
Well, it was typically short and to the point, with no “good morning”, “I miss you” or endearing “xx”, but that didn’t matter. The good news was that, having been called away to deal with an unexpected corporate crisis, Adam would make it back in time for her birthday after all.
Great! she texted in reply, a smile on her face as she shouldered through the door of her office and left it to swing closed behind her. Shall I book somewhere for dinner?
Even as she hit the send button and set the phone on her desk so she could shrug out of her jacket, Sam knew what answer to expect. Adam would have the celebrations worked out down to the final perfect detail, as he had done for the past two years they’d been dating. Settling into her chair, she logged onto her computer to retrieve her messages, picturing with amusement the small frown of annoyance her query would bring to those straight, dark brows of his.
All in hand, came the curt reply a minute later, making her chuckle. Have passport ready for weekend away.
Her laugh gave way to a surprised whoop and, safe in the knowledge that no one could see her, Sam did a happy dance right there in her chair. Where are we going?! she demanded, fingers flying across the touch-screen. When?
It felt like an absolute age before the answer came back. Somewhere special. Friday a.m.
Sam felt her delight plummet into disappointment. Friday a.m.? I can’t! Meetings all day…
You can, Adam assured her. Claire and Annie have you covered until Tuesday.
What? Her partners knew about this and didn’t tell her? She’d take it up with them later, the traitors.
Sneaky. Sam’s excitement levels rocketed skyward again. Tell me where we’re going. What do I need to pack?
It’s a surprise—and, not much. Intend having you naked most of the time.
Knowing that was no empty promise drove a hot fist of need into Sam’s belly. She and Adam all but lived together these days and they were both suffering a high degree of physical deprivation after just four nights’ separation.
Not fair, teasing the birthday girl (in more ways than one). Give me a clue at least, she shot back.
All’s fair, as the saying goes, Adam replied. And who’s teasing? Just thinking about all the things I’m going to take my time doing to you is getting me hard.
And just thinking about that hardness set Sam’s sex-starved imagination off again, this time picturing that white sheet tenting over Adam’s groin as he sprawled, long-limbed and sleep-lazy, in the king-size bed. Not content to stop there, it played out a vision of his hand skimming down over the undulating ridges of his stomach in a leisurely glide, slipping under the rumpled linen to grasp his hot, rigid shaft…
“Oh, god,” Sam couldn’t quite stifle a groan. Even long distance, Adam in all his morning glory was a serious threat to her wits. How hard? Tell me what you’re doing right now.
Adam’s reply a minute later shattered her hot hotel-room fantasy and made her laugh out loud. Breakfast meeting with table full of suits. And yes, am hard enough that will need to make an excuse to be the last to leave if I’m to avoid embarrassing us all.
A wicked smile spread across Sam’s lips as she decided to do some teasing of her own. Poor you. If I was there I’d help hide your predicament by sitting on your lap.
! was all the reply she got back, leaving her with the delightful picture of Adam, immaculate in his suit, doing his damnedest to maintain his cool corporate composure while surreptitiously shifting in his chair to ease the buildup of pressure behind his fly.
Adam? she queried after a few minutes of silence. Everything OK?
Delightful as offer sounds, doubt how much ‘help’ it would be in this instance. Not sure how finance managers would take to the sight of me bending you over the table and fucking you hard and fast on top of their spreadsheets.
The scene slammed into Sam’s mind with such clarity her breath hitched. She could almost feel the hot, pounding friction of Adam’s cock between her thighs, hear the crinkle and tear of those spreadsheets shredding under her grasping fingers, imagine the crush and grind of her breasts against the hard, unyielding table top.
Beneath her silk shirt her nipples peaked in response. Now who was the one left shifting in her seat?