Beyond Temptation (32 page)

‘You know him?’ Harold asked.

‘I’m one of his models,’ Amelia said proudly. ‘That’s me in that picture.’

Harold glanced from
Woman in Control
to Amelia, then back again.

‘Extraordinary likeness,’ he muttered.

‘He’s very good,’ Amelia said proudly. She climbed up two steps and pointed at the next painting. ‘This one shows how good he is at getting beneath the physical likeness, don’t you think?’

Robyn glanced at the painting and her heartbeat pounded. She had given Dominic and Christian strict instructions about the order in which they should hang the paintings. She could see now that they hadn’t followed those instructions.

Harold was staring at
One Woman’s Frustration
.

His frown deepened. He glared angrily at Robyn, not bothering to mask his contempt.

‘I once contemplated hiring a private detective to follow you,’ he said slowly. ‘I thought, if I had a handful of tawdry photographs showing the sort of things you get up to, then I’d be assured of a clean divorce.’

He jammed his finger towards the painting of her naked body.

She was shown chained and begging for satisfaction.

‘That’s a damned sight better than any photograph a private detective could have found for me. That’s all the proof I need to show our marriage is finally over.’

‘It’s a painting, Harold.’ She tried to keep her tone even.

‘It’s proof of what you’ve been up to.’

‘No,’ she began quickly. ‘I was an unwilling model for that portrait.’

‘You’ve fucked Dominic and you’ve fucked this artist, Yale, haven’t you?’

Robyn could see no point denying it. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘And if it’s any consolation, I’ve fucked Amelia too.’

Amelia nodded. ‘If it’s any consolation, she’s very good.’

Harold turned bright red. His hands were balled into fists.

‘I’m leaving.’

Robyn closed her eyes. All her plans and efforts suddenly seemed to have been for nothing. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she wished she had the strength to do or say something that would make him think before storming away from her.

‘Don’t you want to meet the artist?’ Amelia asked slyly.

‘I’d rather meet Beelzebub,’ Harold declared indignantly. He tried to push past her, but Amelia stood her ground.

‘You’re not leaving without your travelling companion, are you?’

Robyn glanced sharply from Amelia to Harold. It occurred to her that the situation might still be saved. She smiled gratefully at the brunette.

‘Where is she?’ Harold demanded.

‘Follow me,’ Amelia said. She started up the stairs towards Yale’s makeshift studio. The sounds of the couple inside were building slowly but Harold either had not yet heard them or thought they were coming from some other source.

Robyn crossed her fingers behind her back and followed Harold and Amelia.

* * *

Sheridan thrust Yale down on the bed and straddled him. She had torn the multicoloured top from her body and thrown it to one side. The skirt was still around her waist but bunched up so he had unfettered access to her sex. Holding his thick shaft between long fingers she guided the tip of his cock towards her anus and wriggled gently against him. She could feel the pulse in his length and knew he was edging closer to the point of climax. The realisation heightened her arousal and made her all the more eager to feel his explosion.

‘Lick me,’ she begged, offering her pussy towards his mouth.

He did as she asked, his tongue probing deep into the warm haven of her sex and slipping softly against the glistening lips of her pussy. He nudged the tip of her clitoris with his lower lip, sending her dizzy with anticipation.

‘Now lick my other hole,’ she instructed.

‘I don’t think …’ he began hesitantly.

Sheridan didn’t allow him to finish the sentence. She rolled her hips forward, pressing the ring of her sphincter over Yale’s face. She squirmed with pleasure when he insinuated his tongue between her buttocks. When she felt his slow wet entry into the dark haven of her backside, Sheridan shrieked with pleasure.

‘Enough,’ she snapped, relishing the role of command she had once again assumed. ‘Too much, actually,’ she giggled. As she moved herself back to his cock, she bent down and kissed him on the mouth. As their tongues met, she felt a lurid thrill of excitement when she thought of where his mouth had just been. The pulse between her legs beat with ferocious hunger.

She took his cock in her hand again and rolled the tip against the wet ring of her anus. She watched him struggle to contain himself, aware that he was dangerously close to the point of climax.

‘Hold it, Yale,’ she insisted. ‘Hold it until I’m ready, or I’ll make you sorry. And we both know I can do that, don’t we?’

He grunted something by way of response, struggling on the bed as he tried to stave off his release. Smiling happily to herself, Sheridan lowered herself onto him. It was a forbidden pleasure that she hadn’t enjoyed for the past six months. When Yale’s shaft filled her bowel the orgasm struck with the force of a speeding train.

Yale’s climax erupted as soon as his cock slid inside.

A moment’s anger coloured her mood – he shouldn’t have climaxed so quickly – but it was quickly forgotten as the pleasure ripped through her body. She screamed with joy and marvelled that she had gone without such pleasure for so long.

The euphoria was so great she didn’t even notice the light switch being turned on. Her state of bliss was such that, for an instant, she thought the brightness had been caused by the strength of her orgasm.

‘Sheridan!’ Harold gasped. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

There was a nasty smirk in Amelia’s response.

‘I think she’s having a private sitting with the artist.’

* * *

The mood in Holbert Manor was as brittle as icicles.

Dominic had taken Sheridan back to the city. At first, she had wanted to stay, insisting that the place belonged to her, and that there was documentation in Harold’s briefcase proving that much. When Amelia had shown her Harold’s briefcase was empty, Sheridan ranted at them all and demanded the entire building should be searched. It was only when Amelia showed her the smouldering remnants of a ribbon in the fireplace that Sheridan finally fell silent and admitted defeat.

But even without her malevolent influence, the mood in the house was uncomfortable. The six of them sat in the dining room: Amelia with Yale, Christian with Bernice, and Harold trying desperately to beg forgiveness from Robyn.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled.

He had said the words more than a dozen times.

‘You have a hell of a lot to be sorry for,’ Robyn agreed. ‘You came close to screwing over our marriage, and all because you wanted to fuck some cheap little tart who was pretending to be a virgin.’

‘You can’t blame Harold totally,’ Yale began. ‘Sheridan is a damned good actress and she can be one hell of a manipulative bitch when she puts her mind to the task.’

Robyn rounded on him.

‘Harold’s already said you can have this place for your exhibition,’ she snapped. ‘So, there’s no need for you to defend him and hope that he likes you better because of it.’

Yale glared at her but said no more.

‘What do you want from me?’ Harold asked. ‘Whatever it takes to make amends, you know I’ll do it.’

‘You’ve put me through hell over the past few months,’ Robyn said bitterly. ‘This last week has been particularly trying.’

‘Then tell me what I can do to make amends.’

She shook her head, studying him with an angry frown. ‘I want a lot of things,’ she began. ‘I want your agreement that we can go back to our old relationship.’

‘Of course.’

‘I want a pay rise and a better office, and a more prestigious company car.’

He was nodding, clearly eager to give her anything she demanded.

An idea occurred to her and she grinned wickedly as the details came together in her mind. ‘And I want Yale to do a portrait of you.’

‘Of course,’ Harold promised.

He seemed so determined to meet whatever demands she made that Robyn briefly empathised with Sheridan’s addiction to the pleasure of control.

‘Of course,’ Harold said again. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘What sort of picture?’ Yale broke in. ‘You do know that I work strictly in the erotic medium. I don’t do flowers, landscapes or fake abstracts.’

She ignored him.

‘You’ll need to take at least a month off work,’ Robyn told Harold. ‘Maybe longer. Can you spare the time?’

‘If it means it will save our marriage, then you know I can.’

‘A month?’ Yale asked incredulously. ‘What sort of painting takes a month to paint?’

Robyn’s smile was so full it was almost manic. ‘The painting will be along a similar theme to one you did recently,’ she told Yale. ‘I suppose you can do the picture in an hour or less, you usually do. But it will take a month for the preparation.’ She beamed at Harold and said, ‘This painting will be called
One Man’s Frustration
.’

Ten erotica stories about those who love to be in control, and those who need to serve. Kinky role-play has become a popular ritual with modern lovers. It’s where the most deeply rooted fantasies come to life. Often sexual fantasy is all about exploring domination and submission, taking the lead or absolving control. Situations arise where punishment, discipline and shame all play their part while masters, mistresses and slaves each seek a thrilling kind of satisfaction in a unique role. These stories venture into the minds, hearts and circumstances of sensual servitude from the point of view of both master and servant.

ISBN:
978-0-00-747922-1

Published
19
^th
July 2012

From the twilight zones of Mischief a coven of sexy stories has manifested and it is, quite literally, out of this world. Vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, the supernatural and other dimensions have possessed erotica and romance en masse and offer no signs of ever being dispelled. Because once you invite the seductively strange and uncanny across the threshold and into your bed, different rules apply. So come and gaze beyond the veil at ten original paranormal erotica stories, written for those special nights when this world and all it offers is not going to be enough.

ISBN:
978-0-00-747923-8

Published
19
^th
July 2012

The only thing that Connie’s puritanical mother taught her about sex was that a young lady should always be modest, so Connie feels free to do absolutely
anything
for her boyfriend Jeff, provided it’s in the dark and under the covers.

Even so, Jeff’s need to gaze upon his lover’s naked beauty breaks the relationship up. Is that the way it is, with men? Can the sight of a breast or a thigh be so important? If so, can she break her Mother’s indoctrination?

Connie starts with shorter skirts and some cleavage but quickly progresses to deliberate ‘wardrobe malfunctions’. Men look at her in a new way. To her amazement, she finds herself addicted to being looked at. Little by little she descends a slippery slope into a world where lust rules and modesty is the only sin.

ISBN:
978-0-00-747778-4

Published
19
^th
July 2012

O for Obedience
finds the outwardly demure and decorous Lucy Salisbury transported to the backwoods of Devon, where she’s under the authority of tyrannical instructors and in competition with young men who range from highly sexed to downright perverted. That she can cope with, just about, but she’s also in company with Juliette Fisher, the girl who taught her the meaning of submission. Everybody seems to want what they can get out of Lucy, and despite her yielding sexuality she’s soon struggling to cope with both their demands and her own needs. Always a sucker for a strong man or a cruel, demanding woman, she finds herself on the receiving end of rough sex, spanking and bondage as she tries to handle the demands of half a dozen lovers at once, while simultaneously putting up with the sadistic head instructor and trying not to sully her precious reputation. At times playful, at others outrageous and edgy,
O for Obedience
is another pacy modern romp from the author of
A Study in Shame
.

ISBN:
978-0-00-747924-5

Published
19
^th
July 2012