Darah Lace Spends Eight Days On The Naughty List!
A little elf whispered in my ear, “Don’t hang your stockings by the chimney with care. Put them on, along with those red stilettos, the matching bustier and mini-skirt. Go be naughty!”
I frowned. Me? Wearing an outfit like that? Ha! He must have been drinking too much hot chocolate! I had, which is why that skirt didn’t fit anymore. But wait, that was reality!
Quick, quick, oh, hurry! I dash across the room and grab the nearest vehicle of fantasy!
Yes! I’m off now. And I’m sleek and long and dressed in red leather!
And hells to the yes! The elf is no longer the same elf whispering in my ear. He’s taller, leaner, a pillar of strength and power. And he’s dressed in full Dom gear, a flogger in his large, strong sexy hand.
“You’ve been very naughty.” His voice is deep, lusty. His dark gaze strays from the tippy-toe of my red heels to the polished red tip of my fingernails high above my head. My wrists are bound to the wall, the cold metal biting deliciously into my flesh. I’m helpless…his to do with as he wishes.
I lower my head to hide my smile. I know he likes it when I’m bad.
And that’s how easy it is to be naughty, to get lost in a book, a fantasy. I do it whenever I can, whether I’m reading or writing. In my latest release, Tara must let go of the world she knows and submit to the unknown world of BDSM. She’s very, very naughty and loves every minute of it!
Tara Sherwood never dreamed she’d let a man put her in chains, call her pet and spank her into submission, or that she’d derive pleasure from punishment. But her future hangs in the balance and the choice is simple—walk away, or kneel at the Master’s feet.
A morsel of decadence that will whet your appetite for whips, bondage and a Master of your own.
A loud pop across the room snapped her head up. The rest of her body jerked but remained immobile, proving the restraints worked and just how vulnerable she was. Oh god, what had she been thinking? She’d never even been spanked before much less whipped.
He was beside her again, a warm hand on her back, smoothing the length of her spine. “Shh, shh, shh.” His palm slid along her hip and over the curve of ass. “It sounds worse than it feels.”
Tara sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She trusted him. She had to, had to do this.
Something tickled the opposite buttock. It felt like dozens of velvety fingers. No, not fingers. Strands of soft leather. She trembled as it shadowed the path of his hand down one thigh, over her calf and back up again then along her back. The tickling continued down her arms until he finally held it for her to see. And seeing the instrument he planned to use on her helped ease the panic.
Funny, she should have been more afraid, not less. Maybe she wanted this more than she thought.
See, Tara is enjoying herself, living a fantasy. I encourage you—no, I dare you—to find your own little elf, let him whisper in your ear. Then go, be naughty!
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