No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon (20 page)

His moan encouraged her, and she alternated teasing
and pleasing him until he leaned down and she felt teeth on her throat and
remembered her own need.

Ethan must have decided it was his turn to alternate
teasing and pleasing her, which he did by running his clever fingers and
skilled tongue over and into her body.

When she couldn’t take any more she protested.
“Ethan, what happened to this being vanilla? You’re killing me!” She reached
for his cock again, but he moved, and she had to be happy running her fingers
over his rippled abs.

“Don’t vanilla partners tease each other during
foreplay?”

“You aren’t letting me tease you anymore, you big
brute!” She laughed and ran her tongue across his throat and licked the crook
just above his collarbone.

He moved the weight of his body above her, rested his
elbows beside her torso, and situated his legs between hers. He lined up, but
didn’t move his hands, and Sam reached down to help align him. His smile told
her he was pleased, and she said, “Make love to me, Ethan.”

Their gazes locked as he entered her, and Sam was
sore enough the edge of pain provided just enough seasoning to make it work for
her. She planted her feet, moved her torso, and met him stroke for stroke,
possessing him as he possessed her. The tempo grew and their hands explored
each other, so familiar, and yet so different as partners without power
exchange. Sam breathed heavier, heard Ethan doing the same, and wrapped her
legs around him as he leaned forward to pull her breast into his mouth.

Sam combed her fingers through his silky hair, and
felt his reaction in his lips, his tongue, and his cock. She pulled his head to
her lips, sucked the outermost part of his ear into her mouth, and her heart
soared at his deep groan.

She moved to the soft spot behind his ear, felt the
pounding of his heartbeat, and sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth.

His hands slid to her ass, and she moved her feet to
the bed and pushed her pelvis up, meeting his every thrust once again. He
lifted his body over her and slowed deliberately.

Their gaze met and she said, “I love you so much,
Ethan.”

He waited until he was pushing in again to say, “I
love you too, Sam. More than I ever thought possible.”

Sam smiled at the control he seemed to be fighting to
keep. “It’s my understanding even the vanilla guys go a little crazy at the
end.”

Ethan kept the same pace, and Sam amused herself by
running her hands over his skin, so hot and smooth over solid layers of muscle
and tendon.

When his mouth finally angled over hers again, she
clung to him and refused to let him up as her arousal spiked, and she felt his
control slip.

They swallowed each other’s gasps and moans, and when
the floodgates finally released and Sam came, Ethan let his control dissolve
and took her like a wild man as she thrashed and yelled beneath him.

She gave as good as she took, and met him stroke for
stroke, fast and furious and visceral, and when she screamed in release again,
he came with her.

He stayed inside her as he rolled to his back, and
brought her with him until she rested on his stomach. Too spent to do anything
else, she rested her head on his chest, every muscle in her body limp. They lay
quiet for a while, and Sam realized it was these moments that meant so much.
Just lying in his arms, relaxed and comfortable.

“I love you so much,” she said drowsily, and then
sighed. “There has to be a better way to show you how important you are to me,
how much you mean to me. Those words just don’t seem enough.”

Ethan rolled to his side and slid out of her as he
arranged her in front of him, spooned with her back to his front. “You show me
every day how much you love me, Samantha. Not just in your submission, but the
way you look at me, the thoughtful things you do like making sure I have
showerheads taller than me.” He kissed her temple and Sam’s heart soared at the
knowledge they’d be able to fall asleep like this every night for the rest of
their lives.

Ethan caressed her stomach and said, “Now go to
sleep, my beautiful wife,” and Sam drifted off, happier than she could ever
remember feeling.

Coming Fall 2014

No Safeword: Matte
– Happily Ever After

ABOUT CANDACE BLEVINS

Candace
Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world.

She
lives with her husband of 16 years and their two daughters. When not working or
driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating,
or swimming.

Candace
writes romance books about strong women who happen to be submissive, and in
some cases have some pretty extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult
enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show
characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship
work.

You can visit her on the web at
candaceblevins.com
and feel free to friend
her on Facebook at
facebook.com/candacesblevins
and Goodreads
goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins
.

If you enjoyed
Safeword: Matte – The Honeymoon,
you might also enjoy:

Safeword: Rainbow

Safeword: Davenport

Safeword: Matte

Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon

Safeword: Quinacridone

Safeword: Matte – In Training

No Safeword: Matte – Happily Ever After (Fall 2014)

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Safeword:
Davenport

Safeword: Davenport

By
Candace Blevins

Dana has never submitted to anyone but her husband
— he trained her, taught her to submit. He’s been dead a year and a half
though, and she’s beginning to consider the possibility of dating again. She
sticks to vanilla at first, but quickly realizes she’s going to need more. As
she’s considering the idea of finding someone who would enjoy hurting her
without requiring her submission, her life is complicated by a Dom who pushes
all of her buttons.

Warning:
This title contains graphic language,
consensual BDSM, bondage, intense sensory deprivation, extreme electrical play,
enemas, and the use of toys including clamps, canes, plugs, cages, paddles,
whips, and floggers.

Excerpt:

The first strike of the flogger landed on her right
shoulder blade as the thought went through her mind, chasing it away.

Max quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm using a
moderate flogger with restrained strength to warm her up. He gauged her comfort
level well, gradually upping the intensity, staying just ahead of her
endorphins, and thoroughly thrashed shoulders, back, ass, and thighs before
moving to her front and flogging breasts, stomach, pussy, and thighs. When her
front was on fire he switched to her back, changing floggers as he stepped
around her. The world went hazy, and her body began trying to move into the
strikes instead of away. She wanted more, forgot she could ask.

The rhythm stopped and he circled to her front again
– her breasts hot and swollen, as if they’d grown twice their size, but
she couldn’t wait for the first strike to fall. She was lost without the
relentless pounding of the flogger, a ship on the sea with no wind.

The music changed to nineties techno, an insistent
beat coming through the drumless instrumental, and her world erupted in wind
and sensation. The hits came to the beat of the music – a strike to her
left shoulder blade and left breast at the same time, quickly followed on the
other side. Right-Left-Right-Left. A continuous loop. Her body tried to react,
even though her mind welcomed it, but she was restrained in so many places she
couldn’t move away from, or towards, the constant sensation of impact. She
tried to keep up with it, but with four floggers moving so rapidly all she
could do was let go and
feel
.

She felt her consciousness grow bigger than her body,
at one with The Universe; and sensed the delineation between soul and body,
could see them as two separate units.

Her body was being flogged, not her soul.

The wind stopped and she opened her eyes and howled
as her spirit merged back into her body, the sounds and smells of the club
assaulting her.

Max was in front of her, his face inches away. He
moved in, his lips on hers, giving her another anchor. Not the leather of the
floggers, not the wind, but his presence, his warmth. He pulled back and she
opened her eyes again, still in her comfortable fog, but more aware of her
surroundings. Brent was walking towards the cage, and Jacob had finally stopped
holding himself up. His elbows were slack, head resting back against the
statue, eyes closed. Dana thought he must be in that beautiful millimeter of
space sandwiched between heavenly bliss and excruciating torment, where you
could simultaneously experience both.

She heard the snap of a single tail, didn’t feel the
pain. He hadn’t hit her. She tried to relax, realized she hadn’t tensed.

The snap and the pain hit her brain at the same time
as the center of her right ass cheek blossomed in delicious agony. Her body
strained, tried to run, struggled to move; her muscles writhed under her skin
as her heart slammed in her chest, and the throbbing between her thighs became
more insistent.

Left ass cheek. Not a blossom, but a pinpoint of
magnificent anguish. She heard herself say, “Yes,” very low, and opened her
eyes in shock at the sound of her voice.

Her right shoulder and then her left, only seconds
apart, and both were on fire. The inferno always raged more on her back, the
focused strikes going from skin to bone, without the muscles in the ass to
absorb the impact, and she needed that intensity. She remembered she was
supposed to tell him, it wasn’t Topping from the bottom. Not today.

She licked her lips, tried to make her tongue work.
Finally got her brain firing the right way and said, “Yes, more up there.”

A voice repeated what she’d said, and then Max was
behind her, his hands lightly resting on her upper arms. “Talk to me. What do
you need?”

She struggled to put it into words, into a sentence.
“Shoulders, where you hit… more intense. Need that. Stay there.”

“I’m going to keep moving around, to draw this out
for you. Do you not want more on your ass, or are you saying you want the level
of pain your shoulders are getting?”

“Need the intensity. Feel it more. Want to hurt.
Please.”

“Okay. I’m going to move back and forth so I can make
it last, but I’ll give you plenty on your shoulders, okay?”

She tried to nod her head, wasn’t sure there was
enough movement for him to see, and said, “Yes.”

She wasn’t expecting the floggers, but he began the
relentless Florentine pattern on her shoulder blades, striking over the
single-tail marks, and Dana heard herself howling, the merciless pleasure/pain
of the continuous blows pulsing through her body, catapulting her to dizzying
heights.

The flogging stopped and she moaned in
disappointment, but soon felt the single-tail on her ass again, the most
violent strike yet to her right ass cheek. She finally screamed, shocking
herself with the sound. Max was behind her again, his hands stroking her arms,
sides, hips. Coaxing her into taking deep breaths, reminding her to relax and
not fight the restraints. She hadn’t realized she was struggling – she
didn’t want to be let loose.

“Good girl. Stay relaxed, it’s time for the next.”

Her left ass cheek received the same intensity, and
she was screaming again, felt herself fighting the restraints as the adrenaline
spiked through her body.

Max’s voice was back, and his hands. The mask was
wet, she hadn’t known she was crying.

When she could breathe enough to talk she said, “More.
Oh god, please more.”

“You’ll get more. Do you trust me to draw this out
and make it last another thirty minutes? Or would you rather I make it super
intense for the next five minutes and not have a spot left to hit?”

In a moment of clarity, her mind put a full sentence
together, though her lips had a hard time saying it. “Make it last, but I want
the intense five minutes at the end.”

He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She felt him move away, waited for the next strike,
but he returned with a bottle of water and a straw, holding the straw to her
mouth. “Drink.”

She did, realizing her lips weren’t working because
they’d been stuck to her teeth. She drank slowly, wetting her mouth without
putting too much into her stomach. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled softly, caressed her
cheek over the top of the hood. “Ready for more on your shoulders?”

“God yes.”

Sir Max went back and forth from flogger to bullwhip
to single tail. She opened her eyes once to see Brent doing something that made
Jacob struggle and fight his bonds. The next time she looked, he was gone.

Dana lost all sense of time – there were only
the whips, the pain, the pleasure, Dana’s screams, and Max’s voice and hands.

Max was behind her again, his hands on her hips below
the waist strap. “You know this can’t last forever. I’m running out of blank
canvas, so this’ll be your final couple of minutes.”

“Will you draw blood? I want… feel the whip, break
skin? Shoulder blades. Please?”

“I’m sorry, but no. I’ll make it hurt worse than I have,
but I won’t tear you open with the bullwhip on top of what I’ve already done.”

“Do it. All of them.” His hands disappeared and then
he was in front of her, holding her gaze until she fell into it. His eyes were
intense, analyzing her, feeling her out.

“Make it hurt,” she said. “Like you’re drawing blood.
I like asking, thank you.”

“Okay, but you’ll get a few on your ass in between
the ones on your back.” He finally released her from his gaze and kissed her on
the forehead, over the leather. “Enjoy it while it lasts, we’re just about
done.”

The next two lashes were on her back, not too far
below the previous strikes, and came as a one-two punch. Her ass blossomed in
pain again not long afterwards, and then he returned to her upper back. The
hits were coming fast and furious, without much time to deal with the heat and
torment of one set before the next arrived.

She could see the pain in layers around her, the most
recent strikes purple, the ones before that red, then orange, and yellow. She
was so close to an orgasm, she kept thinking she just needed a little more to
push her over the edge, but it never came.

There were two sets of hands on her. One taking off
her hood, another removing the spreader bars. As more of her attachments came
loose, strong arms held her up, and when the last chain dropped she was
tenderly lifted and carried across the floor.