The Viscount's Pet by Kryssie Fortune

If you love historical romances Kryssie Fortune’s latest book, The Viscount’s Pet may be just what you’re looking for!

Blurb

When her brother tries to force her into a marriage with a detestable baron, Julianna Halstead flees the family estate she has helped manage since the death of her parents. But as she makes her escape late at night, Juliana’s carelessness nearly results in her being trampled by a galloping horse, and the steed’s handsome rider takes it upon himself to correct her right then and there.
Though having her bottom bared and soundly spanked on the side of the road leaves Juliana blushing crimson, the punishment arouses her intensely and her body’s helpless response cannot be hidden. To make matters worse, the gentleman over whose lap she was so firmly chastised turns out to be none other than Viscount Stonehurst, someone she has known since childhood.
When Stonehurst learns of Juliana’s predicament, he decides to make her his bride. She will be no ordinary wife, however. She will be something much more shameful. But even as she is leashed, collared, and put on display in a cage wearing only a tail, then brought out to be used in ways no proper lady should enjoy, will Juliana come to love her new life as the viscount’s pet?
Publisher’s Note: The Viscount’s Pet is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used and His Innocent Bride. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Or read it for FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
The horse and rider appeared from nowhere.
Julianna sidestepped and dropped her bag. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground. When the horseman tugged hard at the reins, the coal-black stallion reared, its forelegs pawed the air. She screamed and closed her eyes. Curled into a ball, she waited for its ebony hooves to pulverize her.
The rider swore, the horse whickering as it planted its feet in the dirt by her face. Tiny dust clouds rose from the road. She coughed and crablike, she scuttled to the fallen oak at the edge of the copse. The bracken smelled earthy, and the thick foliage cushioned her bruised ribs.
Her heart beat overtime when the horseman dismounted and stalked toward her. Wearing a black greatcoat and muffler, he towered over her. Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her upright.
Even in the evening twilight, his hair shone the same blue-black as a raven’s wing. His features were familiar, but she had no idea why. One glance at his steeply angled eyebrows and she wondered if he was the devil come to claim her.
Her brother would have grabbed her shoulders and shaken her until her head ached. That or hurled vile insults at her. Instead, the dark horseman’s eyes twinkled with good humor. She couldn’t decide if they were midnight blue or ebony black. Their mysterious depths and sloping eyebrows gave him a demonic air.
His high cheekbones were so sharp Michelangelo could have chiseled them from marble. There was a cleft in his square chin that she wanted to stroke. His broad, kissable lips made her want to lick and taste, but they were set in a stern, disapproving frown. If he smiled, his dark charisma would mesmerize any nocturnal creatures. Bats, foxes, and badgers would flock to his side.
His utter masculinity sent shudders along her spine. Devilish and terrifying, he emanated menace and danger. She should be shaking in fear, but he sparked wicked longings in her soul.
Untouched and innocent, she hated how her nipples pearled and damp heat creamed between her legs. She needed his lips pressed against hers and his hands on her body. For a woman who’d sworn never to marry, that scared her more than his fury. If not for his tight grip on her shoulders, she’d have run off into the night.
Her pulse still raced, but she buried her fear beneath a haughty manner. “Unhand me, sir. I’m late as it is.”
Rather than let go of her arm, he tugged her closer. He smelled of citrus fruits and freshly gathered mint. When her gaze meshed with his, lightning bolts sizzled between them. Head bent, he moved toward her. She puckered her lips in anticipation.
Blinking, he straightened abruptly. “I could have killed you, you little fool.”
Disappointment crushed her soul. Her ribs ached from Kit’s assault and her ankle throbbed from her fall. Sniffing back tears, she thought of her mother’s pampered cat and tried to out-stare him. “My apologies, sir. I should have been paying attention, not daydreaming along in the twilight. Since neither of us is hurt, we can go on our own ways.”
“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he snapped.
Pulling free from his hold, she rubbed her wrist. Nervous, she retreated toward her portmanteau, ready to grab it and run. Shooting forward, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The undignified position made her ribs throb. His hand splayed over her rear end, caressing and stroking it as he pinned her in place.
Five steps and he’d carried her back to the tree trunk. Once settled on it, he thrust her over his knee. “Naughty little girls who risk their lives deserve a spanking. And I’m just the man to give it to you.”

Connect with Kryssie Fortune

Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Blog: http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KryssieFortune

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Questions and answers with Kryssie Fortune

Q Does writing energize or exhaust you?
A Definitely energize. I get bad tempered if I don’t do something to inch my writing forward every day.
Q Ballpoint or fountain pen?
A Ball point. I write in a notebook, type up, then read it through before moving on to the next chapter.
Q What time of the day is best for you as a writer?
A Anywhere, anytime. If I have a free moment I put pen to paper. A lot of my early writing was done on the bus on the way and from work.
Q Who are three of your favorite authors? 
A Kresley Cole, Georgette Heyer, and  currently J.S. Scott. The last one changes but I’ve loved the other two for years.
Q How do you research your locations?
Internet and visits. A lot of my books are set in Yorkshire, England. That’s my home county. For my Westhorpe Ridge series, I hounded friends in North Carolina to check details. For my current WIP I visited Lindisfarne in Northumberland to scout the island. (Any excuse for a weekend break with my husband.)

His Innocent Bride by Kryssie Fortune

Kryssie Fortune’s Regency romance, His Innocent Bride, continues to delight readers. One reviewer calls it “A wonderful combination of danger, suspense and red hot sex.” Want to know more? Read on…
Blurb: Going about her mundane life in a small fishing village, Alethea never dreamed she would end up with a man like the Earl of Deanswood, yet when she caught the handsome gentleman's eye he wasted no time in making her his wife. Unbeknownst to Alethea, however, her conniving mother has convinced Deanswood that she has no interest in the marital bed. Devastated by his seeming disinterest, Alethea searches for someone to instruct her in the ways of enticing a man.
When a friend informs Deanswood of Alethea's plans, he decides to train his new bride himself. Soon enough, Alethea finds herself naked, blindfolded, and helplessly bound as she is thoroughly spanked and then brought to one blushing, quivering climax after another. But when Alethea's life is threatened by her mother's vicious scheming, can Deanswood protect his innocent bride?
Disclaimer: His Innocent Bride is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon – Free on Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

The way he ran his hand up and down her spine made her thighs turn weak, but she’d promised to obey him. Unfair as that seemed, she would do as he asked. He’d already told her to strip, so rising to her feet, she let the blanket fall to the floor and untied the belt of her borrowed dressing gown. The silk slid from her shoulders and slithered down her arms. It pooled on the floor at her feet.
She covered her nipples with her right arm and used her left hand to shield her pussy.
He sucked in a breath. Voice stern, he commanded, “Arms at your sides. That’s it. God, woman, you’re temptation personified. I’ve pictured you naked since I brought you off that first time, but I never imagined you as beautiful as this. Turn around, let me see every inch of you.”
All her life, her mother had insisted vanity was a sin. When her husband called her beautiful, Alethea’s smile shone brighter than the summer sun. As she pirouetted before him, her nipples hardened, and damp heat flooded her pussy. In a perfect world, she’d study his bare chest and delicious-tasting cock too, but she was too shy to ask.
Holding her gaze, he beckoned her closer. “Come here, chick. Because you’ve accepted that I’m in charge in our marriage, I’ll forgo the punishment spanking you deserve. Instead, I’ll spank you for our mutual pleasure. Put yourself in danger again, and I’ll blister your beautiful bottom with my belt. Do you understand?”
She nodded and took a nervous step toward him. How any spanking could be for pleasure was beyond her, but she’d trust her husband and obey his commands. Another two steps and she stood with her knees at right angles to his lap.
A nervous glance showed her his cock had grown to humongous proportions. When she’d worn her blindfold, she’d never seen his arousal. Now it fascinated and delighted her.
When he pulled her over his knee, his cock dug into her hip. Positioned like this, she felt like a naughty child. She tensed when he stroked her bare bottom.
Deanswood patted it gently. “Relax, or this will hurt more than it should.”
Those were easy words for him to say, but hung over his lap with her bottom in the air, she felt vulnerable and scared. Taking a deep breath, she untensed the muscles in her bottom.
He brought his hand down in a sharp smack that made her yelp. Heat exploded through her, warming her bottom. Another two blows followed in quick succession, one on each cheek. The way he spread the pain made her wail. Tears misted her eyes, but she clasped his ankles and tried to stay still. Another slap, harder than before, made her sob in earnest. Her bottom blazed. Pain crescendoed through her like thunderbolts that jarred her bones.
Her mind fogged and her vision blurred. She forgot the terrors of her day. Forgot where she was. She couldn’t even remember her name. Her world narrowed until only she and Deanswood existed. His next two strikes made her howl.

More about Kryssie Fortune.

Kryssie reads everything and anything, from literary fiction to sizzling romance. Her earliest memory is going to the library with her mother. She can’t have been more than two at the time. Reading, especially when a book’s hot and explicit, is more than a guilty pleasure. It’s an obsession.
Kryssie loves to visit historic sites, from Hadrian’s wall to Regency Bath. The first book she fell in love with was Georgette Heyer’s The Unknown Ajax. After that, she devoured every regency book she could. After a while, they went out of fashion, but part of Kryssie’s psyche lives in in in Regency London. She longs to dance quadrilles and flirt behind fans. Of course, Kryssie’s heroines do far more than flirt.
Kryssie lives in Bridlington on the Yorkshire coast –about thirty miles from Whitby, where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. She enjoys gardening, travel, and socializing with her author friends. You’d be surprised how many erotic romance authors live in the North of England.

Connect with Kryssie Fortune
Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie
Blog: http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KryssieFortune
Pinterest: http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ
Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Question and answers with Kryssie Fortune.

What does your main character do that is so special?
My heroine, Lady Alethea grew up in a remote fishing village on the Kent coast. A strict religious sect holds sway there. They disapprove of everything - singing, dancing, laughing. Even smiling is a sin. Alethea dreams of a happy future not one sent peddling fish. When James, Earl of Deanswood drives his yellow phaeton into the village, he reminds of the Greek God Apollo driving his flaming chariot across the sky. Not that she can admit to knowing Greek Myths in her village. She gives her heart in an instant, but although Deanswood marries her within a week, he doesn’t do the same.
What is your hero like?
James, Earl of Deanswood never expected to inherit the title. His father and older brother died the same day the battle of Waterloo started. Deanswood enlisted as a boy soldier and although he attained the rank of major, he sold out when he learned of his father’s death. Although it’s never officially stated in the book, he suffers from PTSD.
Describe your writing process and the way you brainstorm story ideas.
Brainstorm? It’s more like batter them to death with a hammer. I start with a random scene in my head and work out how people got there. Sometimes that one scene doesn’t even make it into the story. Once I’ve got the first draft finished, I edit, and edit, and edit. The first readthrough is to check the plot works. The next three are to polish the words. After that, I print it out and read it again. Words look different on paper. Next, I read it out loud. Then, and only then, do I let my husband read it. Not that he’s a romance fan, but I’m dyslexic. He sees things I don’t.
After all that, my editor still makes changes.

Caroline's Gift by Louise Taylor

I love Louise Taylor’s books so it’s great to know she has a new one out. Caroline’s Gift is book one in a new Regency Magic series. It sounds like a perfect read for this spooky time of year!

When dark magic threatens Leo’s life, only Caroline’s power can save him.

Blurb: The young ladies who attend Miss Bertram’s Academy call themselves Practitioners, and use their skills to help, heal and defend those in need.
War hero Leo Sterne doesn’t know it yet, but he’s in need of all the help he can get. A centuries-old curse has caused the premature death of every Earl of Ravenshaw, and he has just inherited the title. The clock is ticking on his survival, and the most inexperienced young lady at Miss Bertram’s has been assigned to save his life.
Caroline Noone has only her wits, training and an unpredictable assistant to aid her, and she is shocked to discover that the mysterious stranger who has been haunting her dreams for months is the new earl. Passion flares between them, but what will happen when disaster strikes?
Can Caroline save Leo’s life? Read Caroline’s Gift to find out!

Publisher’s Note: Caroline’s Gift is a steamy paranormal romance and contains elements of power exchange. Ages 18+ only.

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt:
“I am the master here, and you will do as you are told!”
“You have no power over me!”
As soon as she said “power”, something changed. She would ruminate on it later, when they lay panting on the floor of the library, but at the time all she could do was watch, wide-eyed, as the handsome earl’s eyes flashed with heated emotion and he lifted her from her feet.
Before she knew what had happened, he had sat back in the armchair and bundled her over his knee. She flailed with her arms, but they were swiftly and firmly pinned to the small of her back by one of his large hands.
“Tell me what you know, or prepare to take your punishment,” he ordered.
“Let go of me!”
“Very well,” he said ominously. “You were warned.”
His hand landed on her backside, her thin silk evening gown giving her no protection from the force of the impact. She opened her mouth to shout, but the sound stuck in her throat; three more blows landed before she could let out anything more than a gasp.
The more he spanked her, the more that she refused to tell him what he demanded to know. Her pride, already damaged by her uselessness as a field operative, would not let her give in to the demands of the man burning her backside with his right hand!
“Tell me what I wish to know, or I will be forced to take further action,” he told her, a slight hitch in his authoritarian tone.
She knew what that meant; she had dreamed of it less than a week ago. At the time she had been convinced that she would never allow herself to be manhandled in such a way. Now, however, she was too far lost in the pleasurable haze of heat emanating from her backside to be able to stop what she knew would happen.
She remained silent long enough for him to get the message. He acted just as the dream-version had; he yanked at her dress, pulling it up over her hips before grabbing at the ribbons that fastened her drawers. He snapped them in his haste, pulling the fine material down over her hips and exposing her naked backside to his eye. Down came his hand on the reddened skin of her backside, not stopping until he had delivered ten sound smacks.
“You can stop this whenever you wish, Miss Noone,” he told her, although the tightened grip on her wrists and the passion evident in his voice told her that he did not desire to stop the spanking.
That was all well and good; the pain in her backside had the opposite effect from that which he intended. She would not beg for him to stop - how could she, when that was the very last thing that she desired? The memory of the overwhelming pleasure she found at his hands was too good to miss out on experiencing in the flesh.

Louise Taylor in her own words:

I'm Louise Taylor, and I love reading and writing historical romance novels! I’ve now written ten full length erotic historical romances, and all my novels are published by the lovely people at Blushing Books.
All my books have elements of power exchange, spanking and BDSM but none of my heroines are weak-willed or easily dominated - they make their men work for their love!
I live on the beautiful Welsh coast, and I love walking the cliff tops and visiting some of our wonderful historical ruins. I get my best ideas when I'm in the great outdoors and you can usually find me chasing after the piece of paper I've just scribbled my notes on!
I live in a late Victorian house with wonderfully high ceilings and no central heating - thank goodness for my fabulous fireplace! I'm owned by Alfred The Great, an enormous tom cat with very decided ideas about who gets to sit on the right side of the sofa and how long I am allowed to stay in bed in the morning.

In Need Of Correction by Gracie Malling

Gracie Malling is here today with her latest book, In Need Of Correction. The rave reviews are in, so here’s a little more detail to spike your interest:

Blurb:

When her newly married sister returns home for a visit and brings along her husband and his brother, Andrew Hunter, twenty-year- old Lettie Waterford soon becomes enthralled by the serious, darkly handsome gentleman. But despite her best efforts to impress Andrew, it isn’t long before Lettie’s sharp tongue earns her a stern scolding, and when her unladylike behaviour continues she quickly ends up over his knee with her bottom bared for a well-deserved spanking.

Though the strict chastisement leaves her sore and sobbing, as Andrew comforts her gently after the punishment Lettie finds herself imagining what it would be like to have a man like him for a husband. When she is invited to visit her sister’s new home, Lettie is thrilled at the opportunity to spend more time with Andrew, but as the days pass she cannot help wondering why he has not begun to court her. Will he ever see her as more than a naughty girl in need of correction?

Publisher’s Note: In Need Of Correction includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt:

Lettie had barely registered the sting of the first spank when the second followed… and then the third.

“You must stop!”

The humiliation! The pure mortification, as Annabel would say! For someone of Lettie’s cold detachment and unassailable archness to be imposed upon in as shameful and undignified a way as this was simply unbearable.

“I will do no such thing,” he contradicted, continuing to spank her through the unconscionably thin material of her drawers. “You, Miss Waterford, have had this spanking coming for a very long time.”

Lettie was beside herself. She cried out, kicked her feet, and tried with all her might to wriggle away. Mr. Hunter’s only response was to pause and, without ceremony, pull her drawers apart. 

For a moment, Lettie was so shocked that she could scarce draw breath. Oh, Lord, he had bared her! How would she ever be able to look him in the face again, after this? Never had she felt so vulnerable, so exposed, so utterly undone.

In vain did she try to reach back and cover herself with her hand, to wrench back some of her tattered modesty, but it was no use; Mr. Hunter merely caught her wrist and pressed it down into the small of her back.

“You are no gentleman!” she wailed.

His hand connected hard with her bare bottom, and the sound it made was shockingly loud in comparison to what had gone before.

“No!”

“Yes, Lettie,” he said firmly, his sturdy palm smacking down onto her exposed bottom with ever-increasing speed and severity. “And I assure you that I am a gentleman. I intend no dishonour or outrage upon your person. However, I am well aware that a spanking over skirts and petticoats will have far less of an effect than one on the bare bottom and I fully intend for you to learn your lesson today.”

Lettie gasped and whimpered as each smack of his hand increased the burning and throbbing in her poor naked bottom. It was not fair! How did he dare to take such a liberty?

“You… have… no right…” she forced out through gritted teeth, her face wet with tears of pain and humiliation.

Mr. Hunter delivered an extra hard smack to the underside of Lettie’s cheeks that made her cry out. “I have assumed the right, as a member of your extended family and in the absence of anyone more qualified to take you in hand. If you do not wish to repeat this experience, Laetitia, then I suggest you behave better in future.”

More about the author:

Gracie Malling lives in the UK and has been writing BDSM erotica since she was 21. All round nice person on the outside and a bit of a bad girl in the right company, Gracie loves reading and writing stories about spanking: her favourite kink.

Connect with Gracie Malling:

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Taming Lady Lydia by Felicity Brandon

When Felicity Brandon says her latest book is the most sensual and potent romance she’s ever penned, it’s time to pay attention. In case you missed it, her latest novel is Taming Lady Lydia, a spanking romance that features Lord Markham – the Regency hero that Felicity has always fantasized about. Lord Markham is a strict authoritarian with a loving, tender heart. Everyone knows a Regency lady requires a firm hand….

Synopsis:

When eighteen-year-old Lady Lydia Franklin becomes the ward of Lord Thomas Markham after her father’s death, she quickly discovers that the wealthy, handsome gentleman believes in strict discipline for wayward young women. Her penchant for naughtiness soon earns her a sound spanking, but despite his willingness to punish her as often and as shamefully as he feels it necessary, Thomas’ firm-handed correction leaves Lydia helplessly aroused.

Though he is charged with ensuring that Lydia’s innocence is preserved, Thomas cannot help but notice her body’s response to his stern chastisement. It isn’t long before she is lying naked across his lap as she is spanked thoroughly and then brought to a blushing climax, and over the coming days he sets about teaching her what it means to surrender herself completely to a dominant man.

Being taken in Thomas’ arms proves more pleasurable than Lydia ever dreamed, and she finds herself imagining a future as his wife rather than his ward, but the dark rumors about his past are hard to ignore. When he asks for her hand she agrees to be his bride, but once the wedding is over will the bond between them hold firm or will it all end in scandal and heartbreak?

Publisher’s Note: Taming Lady Lydia includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt:

The depth of the authority in his voice stirs me, sending energy coursing around my body. It pools at the apex of my legs, causing delicious tingles there. “I am sorry to have pressed the point,” I say, and I mean it, although I cannot help but wonder if it is his discipline which I really crave and have missed this last week.

I swear he senses the answer as he reaches for me. He sinks the fingers of his right hand into my hair and draws my body toward him. “Lydia,” he says, his voice almost a low growl. “Are you being intentionally disrespectful, I wonder?”

A silent gasp leaves my mouth as I look upon him.

“Oh, so you are…” he says with a knowing smile. “That is what this is about…”

I flush, knowing that there is little point denying what we both already know to be true. I glance up to him, my eyes imploring the messages I long to say. He pulls me closer, pressing my head against his warm chest. “Have you missed me, my love?” His voice is a deep murmur into my right ear.

“Yes…” I just about manage.

“And so you have chosen to be intentionally disobedient, to garner my attention?”

I shift my head, looking wildly into his face. “It is not my intention, My Lord,” I whimper.

“Oh, really, little one?” he asks, as that brow arches once again. “I think that is an untruth. I think you did intend to disobey me, and I think you did so because you have missed my discipline. Am I correct?”

I am trembling as I reply, utterly startled by his ability to read me. “Perhaps, yes, My Lord, but I did not want for you to be angry with me.”

He smiles. “Lydia,” he coos. “I am not angry. But you and I both know what happens to naughty, disobedient young ladies, don’t we?”

My mouth parts reflexively. “Will you spank me?” I whimper.

“Yes,” he says, pulling me toward him as he reseats himself. “I realise that I have been remiss in my duties to you, and for that I apologise. I intend to make amends right this moment.”

In an instant he pulls me forward and down toward his lap.

“But, My Lord!” I exclaim as I lurch headfirst over his breeches. “Not here, Thomas! What if somebody finds us?”

“We have had this conversation, Lydia,” he says firmly as he hoists me into position, “and I have assured you that I will spank you either with, or without, an audience.”

I gasp, feeling the skirts of my gown, petticoat, and stays dragged up my back, leaving my behind exposed and vulnerable. Almost immediately, his hand lands against my bare skin, the sound resonating around the study. I squeeze my eyes shut, stunned by the escalation of events. I pray silently that none of the staff will hear us and enter the room unexpectedly.

A further four swats are landed on my bottom, and they are hard and intense spanks. I am forced to bear each one, feeling the sting and then warmth they leave after his palm has left. From this angle behind his desk I can see very little, except for the expensive rug at my fingertips.

As the next strike lands, I hear Thomas’ voice from over my head. “Why are you being spanked, Lydia?” he asks.

I notice his voice is calm, but there is just the slight edge of arousal laced there.

“I was disobedient, My Lord,” I reply, my own voice trembling as I do.

“Yes,” he agrees, swatting me hard on the rear again. “You disobeyed me in order to get the attention you require, instead of coming to me and telling me about your needs.”

His hand lands on my behind again. “And for that reason, little one,” he says firmly, “you will receive a sound spanking on your bare bottom, and you will thank me for it.”

I whimper as the next strike lands, catching the pulsating need between my legs. “Yes, My Lord,” I moan from over his lap. “Thank you.”

Five swats land quickly, and instinctively I mean to get up, arching my back as I try to move.

His hand holds me down decisively. “You will stay over my lap, Lydia,” he calls out, and I flinch at the volume, hoping that nobody else will hear him. “You need this punishment, do you not?”

“Yes,” I whine, wincing as the next spank lands.

“Yes, you do,” he says, reaffirming my own thoughts. “So just take it, little one.”

I swallow hard, loathing the way he calls me his little one as he spanks me. The label, of course, helps to reinforce my subservience to him. The onslaught continues, and the stinging sensation is intense. He pushes me on, the utter indignation of the punishment both riling and arousing me. At some point I lose count of the swats, feeling the tension between my legs growing and building. I know I am wet, and I long secretly for Thomas to explore me there.

His palm eventually pauses, pressing itself against the warmth of my bare bottom. “How do you feel now, my love?” His voice is filled with passion.

“Thank you for my spanking, Thomas,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.

I hear him laugh, and slowly, teasingly, his fingers dip between my hot cheeks.

“Well done, my love,” he soothes, as one and then two digits slip against my wetness.

I mewl and groan, loving the intensity of his touch already.

“So wet and beautiful,” he whispers adoringly. “I yearn for our wedding night, Lydia, when I can finally possess you as a man should claim his wife.”

More about Felicity Brandon:

Felicity Brandon is an international bestselling & award-winning writer of BDSM, spanking erotic romance.

Voted Favourite Historical Fiction, 2016, Golden Flogger Finalist, 2016, and Spanking Romance Review runner-up, 2016.

Founding Wicked Pen writer.

Connect with Felicity Brandon:

Website: https://felicitybrandonwrites.wordpress.com/

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The Highlander's Mate by Jaye Peaches

Jaye Peaches is here today with her new book, The Highlander’s Mate.

An author of  D/S romances including Amazon bestsellers, all Jaye’s books contain an element of BDSM, spankings or erotic games of sensual exploration. When not writing, Jaye spends time with her family, enjoying music, sometimes drawing and if the weather allows, gardening.

Let’s look at The Highlander’s Mate from Stormy Night Publications.

Genres: Spanking romance, Regency, Scottish, Paranormal, Shapeshifter

Will centuries of a Highland legend prevent Claire from marrying her lover?

Blurb:

When Claire Armitage’s fiancé, Captain Felix Hughes, informs her that he must interrupt their courtship to travel to his estate in Scotland on urgent business, she is distraught. Refusing to wait patiently for his return as he instructed, she instead journeys to the highlands on her own to join him, but upon her arrival she quickly discovers that he will not tolerate such reckless behaviour.

Resolved to demonstrate to his future bride that disobedience will have consequences, Felix takes Claire over his knee for a thorough spanking on her bare bottom. But chastising her in such a fashion awakens desires in him that are too powerful to control, and to protect her innocence he attempts to send her back home to England until he can make her his wife.

Claire cannot be dissuaded from returning once more to Felix’s side, however, even if it means submitting to any punishment he sees fit and then surrendering completely to his lustful dominance. But when she learns the true reason for his visit to the ancient home of his family, and sees with her own eyes that Felix is much more than an ordinary laird, will Claire still yearn for him to claim her?

Publisher’s note: The Highlander’s Mate is a stand-alone sequel to His Lordship’s Mate. It includes spankings and sexual scenes – strong stuff but worth it. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Excerpt:

She brushed aside a tear that hung from an eyelid. “I don’t want to be punished,” she huffed.

“Nor do I wish to punish you. This, I can assure you, will end my disappointment, and yours too. I sense you know that you have travelled in on a whimsical pretext and with little consideration for those who care for you. Your impatience is to blame.”

He summoned up her fault with accuracy and she had no ground to argue a defence. “I’ve never been spanked before,” she said quietly.

“It is time you were then.”

She gaped at him, astounded by his consistent tone of voice and refusal to be swayed by her calls for mitigation. What surprised her most was that she actually wanted to appease him and to such extent she was facing the realisation she would let him spank her. Rising, she shuffled around the table on her wobbly legs.

“Lift up your skirts,” he told her. Once again, the authority of his voice astounded her. It seeped into her mind and ate away at the defiance.

She tried another attempt at mitigation. “Can’t you spank me over them?”

He smiled for a second. “Claire, what purpose would that serve when I wish you to show humility? Now be a good girl and don’t argue with me. Lift up your skirts to your waist.”

Heat bloomed into her face and she hunched her shoulders in shame. “I’m not wearing drawers. I had no clean drawers. I left my luggage at the tavern in Garve.”

“I know. The cart arrived earlier. The innkeeper is a good fellow. Now, you’ll have clean drawers and clothes, but after I have tanned your bare hide.”

She’d dreamed of undressing for him. A slow, seductive divesting and instead, she had the ignominy of hitching up her gown and petticoats, bundling them before her and showing her stockingless legs and bottom cheeks.

“Come, come, Claire. You’ve a bonny arse to show me.”

“Sir!” His vulgar term had surprised her. He never spoke so uncouthly before now.

“I shall say it again—a bonny arse that needs to be disciplined. Bend over my lap and grip the chair legs. Now.”

Aghast, and close to crying, she tipped forward and lay over his thighs. He supported her as she shifted into position. He unravelled her skirts and a cool waft of air hit her between the thighs. She squashed them together and prayed he could not see what lay between them.

Felix rested his hand on her bottom. The warmth of his hand permeated quickly through her shivering flesh. Nerves had caused a flurry of goose bumps to rise up across her body. His hand felt huge and weighty, not the hand of a gentleman.

“I shall give you a warm-up with my hand, then when I deem you ready, I shall take a spoon and drum it upon your tender behind until you appreciate what a bad lass you’ve been.”

Claire clutched the chair legs and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The only reason she was doing this was because he had asked her and if she had any say in what might happen to her in the coming days, any chance of convincing him to let her stay, she had to show willingness to obey him.

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