Jake
The Silk Rope Masters - Book Two
by
Suzy Shearer
Heat Rating : Level 4
Word Count: 64,579
They ooze
power, control, natural dominance - and sex. They are The
Silk Rope Masters.
None have ever found love but watch out! When
they fall, they'll fall fast and hard!
Jake Nichols, 53, was so tall that Emily Miller, 49,
had to crane her neck to look into his face. Muscular - he could pick her up in
one hand and yet he held her as if she were a fragile bird.
And that's exactly what she was, a beautiful
plus-sized woman with a pain so deep she's buried her emotions rather than face
the tragedy that happened just a few months ago.
Jake was assigned to care for her by Master Ash, the
head of Silk Rope and what Jake didn't expect was to fall in love.
But she was only in his safekeeping until she could
fly on her own then he would have to release her.
Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys, voyeurism,
flogging, public exhibition
This is an erotic
romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used
throughout. It will offend some readers.
STORY EXCERPT:
So
here she was.
It
was almost eight on Friday night, and Emily sat nervously in her car in the
large car park. Would this be the same as either Threshold or The Lair? She
hoped it was. If it was a lower classed place she definitely wouldn’t be coming
back. Maybe she could find another club somewhere if that proved to be the
case. Still she was hopeful. She couldn’t imagine the manager of The Lair,
Bevan Fuller, transferring her to a lesser club.
Then
she wondered for the hundredth time, “What
the hell am I doing here?”
She
still felt numb inside. With every emotion rammed down that hard, Emily
couldn’t even cry. She actually knew how foolish she was, knew perfectly well
the therapists, her family, were right. Time and again they’d told her she
shouldn’t keep everything bottled up, should allow herself to grieve and move
on, but she was far too frightened to face her pain.
Her
weekly sessions with the therapist consisted of her sitting, staring into her
lap or answering in monosyllables and refusing to utter one word about what had
happened. In fact, she’d never cried, never shouted, never gotten very angry
since that day. As soon as she’d woken in the hospital and given her statement
to the police, every emotion, every thought of what had happened—her grief,
every single thing, she pushed deep down inside her and refused to look at
them. She held them down for so long that now she honestly couldn’t take the
chance on remembering.
She
was dead, and yet she breathed.
Sometimes
in a lighter moment she thought of herself as a zombie. An animated corpse
walking amid the living. But mainly Emily thought she was like a well-shaken
bottle of soda pop with the lid screwed down tight. A slight twist of the cork
and the whole bottle would vigorously explode, its contents scattering
everywhere, never to be replaced. She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk her
emotions, couldn’t set them free—the pain would be too great, and Emily knew
she couldn’t handle it. She honestly doubted she would survive if at any time
she was forced to face her past.
In
the back of her mind she knew if she’d grieve, she’d be able to move on and
live again, but instead she tortured herself by bottling everything up. This
was her only escape now, coming to BDSM clubs—her haven. Sometimes she felt
they were all that was left of her life, so at least she could vicariously live
through its patrons.
It
was strange, but those BDSM clubs now felt more like home than any house
possibly could. Inside those doors in front of her she knew what would happen.
She knew the rules, and she knew the outcomes. She knew exactly how people
would react, how they would be toward her. She could sit and watch and know
people would leave her alone unless she indicated she wanted company. No one
would expect anything of her, and she could hide in plain sight. It was her
secure place, the only one she had, and she knew it would protect her. It
really was her safe house—impenetrable, sheltered. All those years she’d spent
at Threshold only reinforced the idea. A club was her sanctuary, a place where,
even if only for a few hours, she could pretend she was still alive. A place
where she could hide among the living.
But
at the same time, she wondered, would she ever be able to return to the woman
she was?
The
one who laughed, who enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest? Or was she
destined to remain empty, afraid of showing any sort of emotion, afraid to face
her heartache? Terrified of the floodgates she was sure she could never hold
back if she allowed one iota of emotion, of agony, of her grief to slip
through.
Finally
getting out the car, she walked up the stairs that fronted the huge Georgian
mansion. Clutching her coat a little tighter, she entered the warm foyer.
Behind a desk a large, burly man smiled warmly at her.
“Good
evening, Miss.”
“Hello.
My name is Emily, Emily Miller. I believe the owner from The Lair, back east,
contacted your manager about me transferring from there to here?”
© Suzy Shearer 2018
ADULT EXCERPT:
Opening her eyes, she took in the scene in front of
her. A tall, shapely woman, a Domme. Her sub, naked, his wrists bound to hooks
on the wall, was standing with his legs well apart, ankles fastened by a
spreader bar. The Domme plied a flogger across his chest and then his thighs.
As Emily watched, a flick across his testicles. He grunted. Another flick, this
time the Domme wielded it upward and over his legs, catching his penis as well.
His mouth opened in a silent scream as she landed a second on his cock.
Emily idly wondered what it must be like for a man to
have his dick flogged, his balls whipped? Even from this distance Emily could
see sweat on his face, the sheen of it glistening across his chest, as his
Domme switched to a crop. A few gentle “love pats” on his nipples then thwack!
Between his legs again and this time his scream rang
around the area, but Emily noticed, if it was possible, his erection seemed
even harder. A few more hits, then the Domme took his face between her thumb
and fingers, and she kissed him. A savage kiss that had him begging for another
when she stepped away. Instead of a kiss, she grasped his cock, twisting it,
pulling at it until he pleaded for release. She shook her head.
“You were a very bad boy, Brian.”
“Please, Mistress. Please.”
“No.”
His plaintive begging echoed as she hit him with the
crop again, and he sagged against his restraints, disappointment radiating from
him. She stepped next to him, her lips close to his ears. Emily strained to
hear her words, leaning forward to catch them.
“You’ve taken your punishment like a good boy. I shall
let you fuck me, but I haven’t decided yet if I shall permit you to come.”
Emily saw how the words affected him. His smile lit up
his whole face as she undid the restraints. He fell to his knees, and taking
her hands, he kissed them.
“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”
The Domme made him stand. Emily could see he was wobbly on his feet, his
erection still hard and strong. The Domme didn’t give him a moment to recover,
and instead she led him away after making him carry her bag of tricks.
© Suzy Shearer 2018
LINKS - WHERE
TO FIND SUZY:
Website
: http://www.suzyshearer.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SuzyS
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SuzyShearer
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/suzshearer
Twitter : https://twitter.com/SuzyShearer
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sooziiis
Linkedin: http://au.linkedin.com/in/suzyshearer
Publisher: http://www.bookstrand.com/suzy-shearer
Email
her at: suzyshearer.author@gmail.com
A FEW LINKS
WHERE TO BUY:
Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/B07FTHQB8B
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com
Angus and
Robertson: https://www.angusrobertson.com.au
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/882008
BIO:
Renaissance woman,
best-selling and Award winning author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and
paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her
books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s.
The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their
curves. Suzy feels it's important for readers to connect.
Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn't mean they aren't intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn't just for the under 30s.
A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting - an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter. Suzy's Art
Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn't mean they aren't intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn't just for the under 30s.
A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting - an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter. Suzy's Art
E-BOOKS OUT
NOW
|
The Club
series
The Club: Bound
The Club 2: Uncollared
The Club 3: Waxed
The Club 4: Displayed
The Club 5: Submit
The
Club 6: Unmasked
|
The Hunters
series
A
Hunter's Heart - Book 1
A
Hunter’s Choice - Book 2
A
Hunter’s Challenge - Book 3
|
Dark Desires series
(each
book is a standalone)
Whipped
Delights
Craving
Her Master
Melting
Her Dom’s Heart
An
Artist’s Kiss
Elephants
and Ever-Afters
|
|
The Silk Rope Masters
series
Steven
Jake
|
|
Single Titles
Daemons
Are Forever
Build
a Love
Perfect
Three
Her
Dom’s Secret Past
|
MOST BOOKS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE AS PAPERBACKS
~~~~~
2018 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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