Blurb:
Tom Baldwin is a successful actor, a national heartthrob, a sex symbol -- and a sexual submissive. Claudine Wallace is a professional Dominatrix with a client list of politicians, captains of industry and one well-known actor.
A purely professional relationship.
Claudine accepts Tom’s invitation to a weekend in France, in her professional capacity, and plans a weekend of sex games and bondage. Even if they’d both secretly wish for something more from their relationship, there are rules. Lines client and Dominatrix never cross.
Tom’s about to break all the rules… no matter what the cost.
Author’s Note: This story takes place some months before Sexy Games.
Excerpt:
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For the next two hours Tom had nothing to do but revel in the sensations that awaited on the other side of the inner door. Might as well relax and luxuriate in the prospect of an afternoon free from the demands of being Tom Baldwin, actor and heartthrob. Funny really, he got mountains of letters, e-mails, boxes of chocs and offers of lunch, homemade cakes and sex from women all over the country, but the only one who truly satisfied and understood him waited on the other side of the stained glass door.
And she would soon… He smiled. Couldn’t help it. Even back in his boarding school days, when the other boys had salivated -- and masturbated -- over illicit copies of Gentleman’s Pleasure or Bouncy Babes, he’d imagined a strong, beautiful woman who took total charge.
He was damn lucky he was rich enough to afford her. Not that he’d ever, in a million years, ever breathe a word about their relationship. Lord, what would the scandal rags make of it?
The inner door clicked open and a strong, clear female voice said, “Come on in, Tom. I’m ready.”
He bet she was.
He stood, ran his hands through his hair, squared his shoulders and smiled as he pushed the door open and walked into Claudine’s parlor.
She was wearing her usual sweatsuit, a gorgeous scarlet one this time, and she watched as he crossed the length of the Turkish carpet.
“Claudine,” he said, inclining his head. That little gesture of respect sent a shiver of anticipation down to his cock.
“Afternoon, Tom,” she replied. “Punctual as usual. Have a seat.” She indicated the leather floor cushion by her chair.
He sat, glad of the hours of fencing, dance and gymnastics that let him sit down gracefully. One just didn’t thump down on the floor beside Claudine.
“Well,” she said, stroking his head and pulling it closer so he rested against her thigh. “Had a busy morning?”
“An argument with the scriptwriters over the next two installments of the new series, and lunch with an old school friend.”
“Good lunch?”
“Food was. Trouble is,” he paused and she waited. She always did, never interrupted. At least not when he talked. “He’s dying to introduce me to one of his sisters. Nice chap, has a slew of sisters, some already hitched to nice blokes…” Hell, might as well say it. She knew what he was like. “I can’t see myself settling down with a nice woman, buying a house in Surrey and spending family holidays in the Dordogne.”
He loved her laugh. He reminded himself he might love what she did, but he didn’t love her. Only what she could do to him. “No, Tom, I can’t see you happy in the Home Counties.”
He agreed. Growing up in Oxshott had been quite enough.
“All right.” She gave him a pat on his shoulder. “I want you naked, and you’d better be ready when I come in.”
Didn’t take him long. Once in the changing room, he tucked his socks in his shoes, put his trousers in the press and his jacket, shirt and tie on the mahogany valet. He emptied the contents of his pockets onto the side table.
And couldn’t help noticing the leather cock ring beside the box of condoms.
So, she was trying that today, was she? He’d not complain.
Naked, he tightened the band of leather around the base of his cock. Seeing it on the table top had spurred on his erection. Now he was upstanding and ready. Better put the condom on.
Funny really, how he so longed for what Claudine offered. Vanilla sex was fun, and he had plenty of offers, many of which he’d accepted over the years, but what Claudine gave was sheer and utter bliss.
He pulled aside the velvet curtain and walked into Claudine’s play room. A dark oak St. Andrew’s cross stood in the middle of the open space. Tom smiled. Claudine waited. A many tailed flogger -- a red one -- hung from her right hand. She’d shed the sweatsuit and now wore spandex tights and top. She looked ready for, or to give, a tough workout. “You know what to do, boy!”
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