From salvage mission to cluster-fuck before they even got out of the hatch. That was some kind of record… even for them.
Her Consort by Maren Smith … Out Now!
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“I love belts.” He winked, and she trembled all the harder when he knelt down behind her. The cuffs clinked together as he selected which end to use first. “Implements of correction that one can wear, always at the ready.”
“What exactly do you think I should be corrected for?” He pretended to think about it. “How about all the times you drove me to absolute distraction?”
She was so astonished by that lack of reasoning, she almost didn’t notice he had fastened the first cuff around her unresisting ankle, and then buckled that around the right table leg. “I drove you? You’re the one who won’t stop walking around the ship naked!”
“Yes, but who ignores it? Do you have any idea how cold this ship is when you’re wet? Your first dozen strokes ought to be for shrinkage alone. And all those times you called me ‘asshat’?” He shifted to her other side, opening the cuff to buckle down her left ankle. “Granted, I didn’t know what that meant until now, but still…” He circled to the head of the table and leaned down beside her. Hands clasped, weight braced on his elbows, he shook his head. “Poor innocent, little human. Don’t worry. I am going to make this such an education for you.” Ruffling her hair, he stood again.
“You idiot!” she huffed, whipping her hair back out of her eyes. “It’s a curse, not a suggestion. And like hell I’m going to stand here and be taught anything by the likes of y-ah!” She lurched in her bonds, every inch of her straining to escape the lash of pure fire that wrapped her ass, hugging it in the grip of all that supple leather before letting go.
“Is it?” Kogan asked, shifting that deceptively soft strap to his other hand. “Is it really?”
The sting was incredible and yet, when he let his free hand wander a brushing caress across the welt he’d just created, her eyes damn near closed in erotic delight.
She was a salvage operator, patrolling the depths of deep space.
He was a professional consort to royalty, built like a Neanderthal. Twice her width and twice her weight, his six-pack abs had six-pack abs. She knew, because she’d seen them.
It really was kind of too bad they didn’t get along.
About Maren Smith:
Fortunate enough to live with my Daddy Dom, I am a Little, coffee fanatic, administrator at two of my local BDSM dungeons, resident of the wilds of freakin’ Kansas (still don’t know how I ended up here) and submissive to the love of my life. An International and USA Bestselling Author, I have penned more than 160 novels, novellas and short stories, and am the author of the Masters of the Castle series.
I also write under the names of Denise Hall, Darla Phelps, and Penny Alley.
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