I’m joining in the My Sexy Saturday blog hop this week with a sweltering seven taken from Darkest, the third book in The Dark Side trilogy. Enjoy this little sizzler, then go and check out the rest of this weekend’s hot stuff from all the other fabulous authors at My Sexy Saturday
If you want to see more of Nathan and Eva, all three books are available from
I step back, and take my time over undressing. Neither one of us seems to be in any hurry. My loose T-shirt first, followed by my skinny black jeans. I drop them to the floor behind me and stand before him in just my bra and panties—carefully chosen from my selection of sexy matching underwear—before reaching behind me to unhook the bra. I drop it to the floor with the rest of my stuff and start to slide the panties over my hips.
He reaches out, stops me. “No, let me do that. In a moment.” My heart is thumping despite my new-found confidence and my mouth is dry. I stand still, waiting for his next instruction. He turns to the table and picks up the spanking paddle, flexing the rubber blade between his fingers. Turning back to me, one eyebrow raised, he runs the blade slowly down between my breasts before flicking it sharply upward to catch my right nipple. I gasp, flinch. And stand still again as he repeats the action, this time tormenting my left nipple. Knowing what he intends to do, the pain is sharper the second time. My hands move involuntarily to protect myself. His look of reproach is enough to make me drop my arms back down to my sides, as I wait for what comes next. He flicks each nipple with the paddle twice more, and I force myself to stand perfectly still despite the biting sting.
Satisfied at last that I am obedient, accepting, he turns away, pulling a chair out from the table and sits on it. He beckons me to him, and with a soundless gesture indicates that I am to lie across his knees. I step forward to stand beside him, my hands on his leg as I carefully lean forward, positioning myself. When I am comfortable I let my weight rest on him, my head hanging down nearly to the floor. He strokes my back softly, running his fingers down my spine, and I shiver. He repeats the action, this time sliding his hand down over my buttocks, under my panties. He massages the rounded, fleshy cheeks of my bum, sliding his fingers between them to caress my sensitive slick folds. I moan, unable to contain my mounting pleasure.
“How many strokes do you need, Eva?” His voice is curt, harsh despite his gentle, arousing fingers. I am momentarily confused by his deliberate choice of words. What sort of ‘strokes’ does he mean?
The sharp, stinging slap on my bum settles that question. I squeal.
“Be quiet or I’ll have to gag you. We don’t want you waking up the household, now, do we? Now, how many strokes?” He slaps me again, hard. I muffle my squeals with my hands. “I… I don’t know—” I manage to get out before his hand lands on my bottom again and I can’t help but start to wriggle. His arm is firm across my back—I’m going nowhere. Not that I want to.
“I think twenty strokes should see you fine. With the paddle. But first, I intend to warm you up a little with my hand. Is that okay, Eva?”