Today, I have the lovely Raven McAllan on my blog. She is a very prolific writer of all things erotica and the number of her books is getting close to the 100-titles mark I'm sure. I'm proud to call her a friend . Check out her latest book.
Ballingal. An Island in the middle of a Loch. Where women rule, and hearts are saved—or broken.
I love the sound of the ladies of the loch. There are six of them. Kristin's is the first story to be told.
Kristin McCrory would never in a million years have thought her ex-husband would show up on Ballingal and profess his need to sub for her. Flynn is the ultimate stubborn Alpha male, and his refusal to even discuss her need to be in charge had already cost them their marriage. That, and his apparent need to seek out the most dangerous place to report on in his work as a television documentary reporter.
However, the Flynn she knew is not the Flynn who stands before her now. This Flynn is a broken man and she can’t just turn him away. As an Empath and mind reader, Kristin can sense his emotional and physical pain. It means Kristin feels even more drawn to the man she loves, and their connection is as strong as ever.
Love is worth fighting for after all, and Flynn finds new strength in his submission.
“Up the stairs, third left. Don’t go to the third right unless you want your lessons to start with a vengeance.” Would he understand the inference?
His eyes narrowed and he nodded, before he held his hand out to her. Kristin took it and they walked side-by-side up the stairs to the room she indicated. Flynn turned the handle and stood back. “After you, My Lady.”
She nodded. “This time. Another time, if there is one, it may be different.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Of course. This time though, after you, and stand by the bed.”
Kristin walked past him and did as he’d asked. It was a strange feeling. She’d wanted to play like this. However, she’d never found someone she trusted enough to do so with. Always she’d stayed in her Domme and dominant mode. This was different. A side of her she’d never dare show to anyone before. Of course when she’d lived with Flynn, before she outed herself and everything went pear-shaped they’d made love and he’d taken charge, but this was different. When she had time, she'd take a long, hard, deep look at why she felt able to let go, now.
He didn’t speak as he walked up to her and cupped her face in his hands. She noticed they shook a little as he stroked her cheeks with his fingers. “I’ve wanted to be able to do this for so long, My Lady. I’ve dreamed of you. Felt your skin next to mine, experienced your lips touching me, and enjoyed your hands caressing me as you held me close. And then, then I woke up. Empty and alone.” He drew his hands down her face and onto her shoulders, before he swept her hair to one side and caressed her neck. “I’ve imagined touching you here.” He kissed the nape of her neck. Kristin’s senses went into high alert clit-clenching pussy spasms within seconds. “And here.” He kissed his way downward, toward the low V of her top and ever lower until he sucked oh so sweetly on the soft swell of her breast.
She moaned and he chuckled. “Like that, My Lady? How about this.” He pushed the sleeves of her top, and her bra straps over her shoulders and down far enough to pinion her arms to her sides.
So often she’d done that to a sub—although it was more likely to be with a belt or a special tie—but not since they’d been together had she experienced that feeling of “he can do what he wants and I’ll let him.”
Flynn trailed his fingers over her shoulders, around her neck and up and down each inch of exposed arm. It tickled and she squirmed. He raised one eyebrow and grinned. “Teasing is such sweet anticipation, My Lady. Where will he touch next? How will he? Can I bear it?”
Kristin made a noise halfway between a sob and a sigh. Her thighs were more than damp, and her nipples hurt as they pushed hard against the confines of her lacy bra. Her mind was befuddled and every sense honed in on her lover, his scent, his presence, and his touch.
His teeth grazed her areolae and she stopped even befuddled thoughts and sank into his touch. His breath was warm on her skin, and he drew back and blew over her nipple. It puckered and tightened.
“Oh yes.” Flynn’s voice was deep and gruff with arousal. “Shit, if I don’t get us both horizontal fast, it’ll be too late. One sec.” He fumbled with the zip at her waist, and caught the material in it. “Fuck and bugger. Oh well I’ll buy you a new one.”
Through eyes still fogged with desire, and before she gathered her wits properly, Kristin watched as Flynn took hold of the sides of the zip and pulled firmly. The noise of tearing cotton sounded loud and violent in the room, and she jumped. Then she looked down at the remains of her skirt as it pooled around her ankles, and laughed.
“Ah well, it was about ready for the rag bag anyway.”
“How to spoil the skirt, eh?” Flynn shook his head in mock dismay. His eyes were once more dark with desire, and dangerous silver sparks danced in their depths. “And the moment? Now where were we? Ah, yes, trying to get naked and on the bed.”
“You’re dressed.” Kristin pointed out. “And I’m only almost naked.”
“Almost won’t be for long,” Flynn said. “And, My Lady, you told me to take charge.” His voice was too innocent. “I’m only doing as my lady instructed. After all, I don’t suppose it will happen often.”
Nor did she, but somehow, Kristin knew this time it had to be so. He slid her well-damp thong down her legs, and she lifted each foot in turn to help him remove it. Flynn lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Ah, My Lady. You’re so wet for me. The scent of your arousal is so fucking intoxicating it makes me as hard as nails. I’m almost coming in my jeans like a randy school kid.”
Her face heated and she reckoned it would be the color of her hair. Basic lust, love and honesty in three short sentences. Her juices increase and coated the top of her thighs. Flynn helped her onto the bed and she wriggled, and pressed her legs together to get a little bit more friction. She needed to come, to let herself go and fly. Of course he saw her actions and tapped her mound, just hard enough to sting.
“You’re altogether too Dom-like for a sub,” Kristin said, half seriously. His face froze, and she could have kicked herself. What a stupid thing to say. “And as I’ve handed our play session to you, balach, may I say you’re doing superbly. Just as your lady demanded,” she added hastily. “I love it.”
"This time.” Flynn said, his expression still wary.
“This time,” she agreed. She wished she could reach out and touch him. To reassure him that this was what she wanted but she judged to say any more would be too much. She’d just have to hope she could put his mind at rest in other ways. Kristin lifted her hips from the bed, clenched her butt and pussy muscles and wriggled her ass in the air.
Well what can I say?
I'm growing old disgracefully and loving it.
Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.
Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.
I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I'm often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I'm not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.
Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.