Oh my. Is it could outside? Because this should warm you right up. As you see we have ALBTALBS friend Portia Da Costa back with us today sharing quite the steamy excerpt from her upcoming release, The Accidental Bride. Enjoy. 😉
Now living together, Lizzie Aitchison and multi-millionaire businessman John Smith enjoy a state of blissfully uncomplicated pleasure, and an increasingly tumultuous sex life in their luxurious new home. Physically they’re a perfect, loving match…
But John is still a man of emotional secrets, and when an old flame from the past turns up unannounced, his and Lizzie’s relationship is suddenly thrown into question… even though he’s asked her to marry him and join his aristocratic family.
Despite his proposal, Lizzie still finds it difficult to tell exactly where John’s heart really lies and whether he’s able to abandon the past and start anew. In the craziest of circumstances, she accidentally fell in love with him… but will it be just as easy to accidentally lose him?
Lizzie knows an interesting secret that she’s not yet divulged to John. The fact that she’s been keeping this intel from him becomes the prompt for a playful BDSM scene…
‘Again?’ he said softly. He’d read the lust in her face, her reaction to him. ‘Aren’t we forgetting something?’
‘I should think not. Now, why don’t you lie on your lounger, face down, so we can do the deed?’ His tongue peeked out again, sweeping over the firm, velvety curve of his lower lip. Oh, the devil, he was so enjoying this.
Ungainly with her swimsuit around her thighs, Lizzie got down onto the lounger and spread herself upon it like a sacrifice on a slab. She curved her fingers round the top edge, holding on tight, anticipating what was to come. Her toes curled of their own accord against the thickly upholstered cushion beneath her, and she turned her face boldly towards her master.
John sat there, watching her, taking his time, as yet not inclined to move. Again, he cupped his crotch, gently fondling himself. Lizzie was hypnotised by the tiny movements in the tendons in the back of his hand. He seemed intent on stretching out the tension, making her wait, ramping up her reborn desire, and the strange amalgam of fear and longing that preceded a spanking.
After what seemed like an age, he reached for his towel and solemnly proceeded to fold it into a toweling pad, which he set beside her lounger. ‘Got to protect the old trick knee,’ he said conversationally as he slid onto the towel, on said knee and the non-trick one, next to where she lay.
‘There’s nothing wrong with your knee, you old malingerer,’ she said pertly, ‘It’s as fit and fabulous as the rest of you.’
John sighed, segueing into his old weary mentor with wayward pupil act. ‘Lizzie… Lizzie… Lizzie… When will you learn respect for your elders … and your master! You really are the most useless sub on the planet. It’s a good job you’re the most beautiful, desirable, adorable woman that ever lived, because as an obedient slave, you leave a lot to be desired.’
She loved the laughter in his voice. She loved the lightness and the playfulness of him. Oh, he’d spank her hard, yes he would. And she might even shed a tear or two. But it’d be fun too. With John, it always was.
His hands settled on her, on her back, on her bottom, fingers spread. Slowly, he caressed her, assessed her, savoured her. Stroking. Teasing. Visiting each inch. Telling her how he cared for her as he sampled her skin and the musculature beneath it.
‘Perfect,’ he breathed, ‘Absolutely perfect.’
Would he use his hand? He most often did. They did use toys and devices, but time and again they returned to the intimacy of skin on skin. Simple. Classic. Uncontrived.
But the way he seemed to hesitate seemed to suggest he might mix it up a bit today. She sensed him casting around, devising something. It didn’t surprise her when he reached for one of the rubber flip-flops that she’d been wearing on the poolside.
Ooh, that might hurt. Indeed it would hurt. The flip-flops were quite chunky and substantial. She could feel the weight of the one he’d chosen as he laid it against her buttock, introducing her to it. He let it rest there a moment, then…
Before she’d even had chance to realise he’d started, he’d laid the damn thing on with quite a wallop. It felt twice as solid and substantial as she’d expected it to be, like a length of wood rather than moulded rubber, knocking the breath out of her and instantly filling her bum with heat.
Oh, it hurt! It hurt! Only one spank, and her left bottom cheek was roaring. And at the same time she was already grinding her pussy against the lounger.
‘Hush, be still,’ he commanded, soft of voice and hard of intent. The flip-flop crashed down on her other cheek and she yowled again, mashing her crotch against the upholstery beneath her as her fingers gouged it too, above her head.
It was either that or push her hand between her body and the cushion and masturbate as he spanked her. She was tempted to do it. After all, he’d reminded her what a willful sub she was, so she might as well fulfill his expectations.
‘Oh no you don’t, madam,’ he warned, as if he’d read the thought.
She squirmed again, and yelped too, as he brought the flip-flop down in two fast strokes like thunderclaps, one on each cheek. Oh, the delicious agony!
‘How the fuck do you do that?’ she demanded.
‘What? Spank you? It’s like this…’ Wallop! ‘And this…’ Slap, on the other cheek!
‘Not that,’ she croaked, her voice distorted by the burning heat that seemed to be in all her body, not just her buttocks. Her nipples were aching stones against the cushioned surface beneath her. ‘The thing … the way you seem to know what I’m thinking all the time. It’s just weird, and a bit scary. Especially if I happened to be thinking something rude about you.’
‘How rude?’ He slapped again, inciting inferno, and again. ‘How rude?’ he demanded, pausing, then inclining forward over her, pressing his crotch against her bottom, rubbing himself on her heat. His empty hand curved around her hip, holding her steady as he massaged her with his cock. That hurt too, but she lifted herself, pressing back against him.
‘Oh … just stuff. About what a horny pervert you are, and how colossal that thing is that you’re jamming against me.’
But it was more than that, and more scary. He could see her heart, when sometimes his was opaque to her.
‘Sweetheart,’ he whispered, as if he’d read that thought too.
For a few moments he just rested against her, as if enjoying the stimulus of the warmth of her punished bottom cheeks on his aroused flesh. Then he swirled his hips again, rubbing, rubbing. Was he going to come?
But then, he straightened up. ‘I’m going to spank you for just a little longer, my darling, because the way you wiggle and moan, and the gorgeous cherry glow in your bottom is so divine. And then you’re going to tell me what this secret thing is you’re keeping from me.’ He laid the flip-flip against her right buttock, as if retrieving his ‘sighting’ of it, ‘Because despite your claims that I read your mind all the time, missy, I have absolutely no idea what the devil it is.’
Right? I told you!