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Blurb:
Four sexy stories set in Madeleine Oh's BDSM universe. Dominants, submissives and newcomers to the scene all find love and passion in this not to be missed collection.
Power Games: John Kent only agrees to make up a foursome to oblige his old friend Mark. But when Aunt Ellen turns out to be an enticing young widow, and a submissive, John's Dom instincts take over...
Submissive Games: Tom Baldwin is a national heartthrob -- and a sexual submissive. Claudine Wallace is a professional Dominatrix with an exclusive clientele. A purely professional relationship. And Tom's about to break all the rules... no matter what the cost.
Sexy Games: When a tall, dark-haired, sexy man suggests they skip out on the assembled partygoers, Jenny agrees, for an evening of spectacular sex. But Basil Wallace plans on tying Jenny down -- in more ways than one.
Dominant Games: Ian Bennett is intriguing, but Julie knows from past experience how badly things can go when you fall for the wrong man. It's up to Ian to convince her he's the perfect Dominant to meet her submissive needs, not just for one night, but for a lifetime.
Excerpt:
Submissive Games (Collection)
Excerpt from Power Games
Madeleine Oh
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
"Train's late," Mark muttered, looking at his watch. "It should have been here at seventeen past."
It was seven twenty. "Cheer up. It'll get here. And with a bit of luck, she'll have missed it and you'll have a perfect opportunity for discipline."
Mark snorted. "Chance will be a fine thing. Doubt I'll even get to go home with her. I can hardly, in all decency, ask her to stay in town with me and leave the poor old lady to hoof it down to Guildford on her own."
"Mark!"
They both turned. And stared. Annie and a woman in a red dress ran towards them.
"The train came in early, at platform seven instead of nineteen. We were waiting for you there, then Aunt Ellie suggested you might be waiting where you expected us to arrive, so we came over here." She kissed Mark and gave John a smile and a hello. "Let me introduce my aunt, Ellen Forsythe. Aunt Ellie, this is Mark Hanson and John Kent."
Old aunt indeed! Had Mark been having him on? No, he was stunned, too. "How do you do?" John offered his hand for a decidedly confident handshake.
Her bright green eyes crinkled at the corners. "How do you do?"
She turned to Mark and shook his hand. The man remembered, just in time, to shut his mouth, sparing them a view of his tonsils.
"Thank you for letting me elbow into your evening. I tried to convince Annie to let me stay home, but she insisted and when I heard we were going to Chez Robert, I capitulated."
"I'm glad you did," Mark replied. The lad was getting his composure back. "It's a pleasure to meet anyone in Annie's family."
She chuckled. It was deep, throaty and sensual. "Ah ha! Now I understand, you want me to tell you all about her murky past. Like the time she streaked in front of the bishop."
"Oh, please!" Annie still blushed. It was rather sweet, John supposed. "Don't forget to mention I was fifteen months old at the time."
"I could always counter," John said, "with how Mark was a page at my aunt's wedding and peed on one of the gravestones in the churchyard."
"Thank you, John, so very much, for sharing that little edifying tidbit," Mark almost snarled.
A stifled snort came from Ellen's direction.
"If you two have quite finished with your 'embarrassing things we did before we could speak' stories. Mind if we get a taxi?" Annie wasn't enjoying this any more than Mark.
"Brilliant idea," John said. "Lead on, Mark."
Mark and Annie went ahead. John fell in step beside the aunt. The stunning aunt to be exact. What else do you call a tall woman in a vivid red dress, eyes that crinkled at the corners, a sexy smile and dark hair curling around her face? She had a few gray hairs in among the dark, but, to be honest, he'd pulled several out that very morning.
"You've known Mark all your life?" Ellen asked.
"You could say so. Our mothers were distant cousins and our fathers were half brothers. We were always at the same endless family functions. Have to be honest, at the same memorable wedding, my brother and I got walloped for climbing on a great stone sarcophagus. We were old enough to know better."
"Being old enough to know better seldom makes any difference." His laugh had Mark looking back at them. Let him look. "I doubt you're impartial," she went on, "but he's a good man, is he?"
"Are you doing a worthiness assessment?" He should have guessed.
"Good God, no! Wouldn't presume. Annie has her head screwed on right. But I have a bossy older sister who needs a report on the honorableness or otherwise of his intentions, if he's gainfully employed and if he's a potential wife beater."
Was she psychic or just flippant? "As you said, I'm scarcely a disinterested party, but he's held the same job since he came down from Oxford and he's obviously nuts about Annie." Question number three was none of her business.
"Not sure about the wife beating, eh?" She paused. "Do you think it's consensual?"
Heaven give him strength. "Oh! Mark's got a taxi. Come on."
Mark and Annie climbed in first and sat together. Ellen flipped down one of the back facing seats, smoothed her swingy skirt and gave John a long, assessing look sideways. Did he want to ask her what the hell she meant, or pretend he hadn't heard? Neither seemed quite right. Hell, he was a Dominant. He was in control. He led. Had Annie confided in her aunt? What was the woman after? Whatever it was, she was getting under his skin, and that darn perfume of hers was distracting to the nth degree.
But he wasn't going to let things get out of hand. He'd agreed on this as a favor to Mark, and darn it, he was not going to let a stray comment -- a very on target and pointed stray comment -- rattle him.
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