Sunday Snog - FREE - In Expert Hands

Welcome to Sunday Snog - this week I have a free read for you, In Expert Hands. Enjoy this little excerpt then grab yourself a copy.

The click of metal sliding into place rattled around Imogen’s head. Kane had arranged to have the entire club emptied, just for them? Excitement spun through her mind as nerves fluttered in her stomach.

“Now,” he said, reaching for the belt of her coat. “You can be really honest about what you see here, tell me everything that goes through your mind, what interests you, what excites you.” He released the knot and pushed the material from her shoulders. “I want to know what you’d like to try and what you think your limits would be.” He hung her coat on a hook then added his light jacket next to it.

He was wearing a black shirt and neat black jeans which accentuated his height, slim hips and wide shoulders.

“How long? I mean when...?”

“We can stay as long as we want to. Sub Space won’t be open tonight.” He surveyed her body, seeing her outfit properly for the first time.

“Because of us?”

“Yes, because of us. I didn’t think you’d want an audience, not yet anyway.”

Her mouth was a little dry. She swallowed.

“Don’t be so worried. You want this, you told me so, you’re curious.”

“Yes, I am.” She tilted her chin. “And I’m not worried.” She nodded at the door to the room they’d went into the day before. “Are you going to put your velvet jacket on?”

“No. I’m your Master, you don’t need to see the stars on the jacket to remember that.”

“You have them on your body.”

“Exactly.” He reached for her hand and led her down the narrow corridor they’d used yesterday to get to the bar area.

Once more, Imogen stared at the women in the pictures bound by rope. There appeared to be real art to the knots and symmetry in the design.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Kane said.

“Yes, very.”

“It’s called shibari, an art form that can take years to perfect.”

“Can you do it?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Would you like me to tie you like that?” He gestured to the picture next to them.

It was of a woman with black poker-straight hair. She was bound over her chest so that her breasts bulged forward, swollen and bloated. The rope went around her waist, between her legs and down to her ankles. Her arms were behind her back—Imogen guessed they were also secured—and she stared at the camera with a defiant expression.

“I don’t know.” That was the honest answer. “Wouldn’t it take a long time to do and then undo?”

“Yes, but what’s the rush? If she’s enjoying her Master’s attention and he’s enjoying the art of shibari then it works for both.”

“And when she’s like that? Tied up. Then what?”

“Well, then he can do whatever he wants to her.”

Imogen looked at the photograph again. She couldn’t imagine being tied like that. Which didn’t mean she wouldn’t try it, she just couldn’t picture herself in that position.

“You’d be so beautiful in rope,” Kane said, touching his lips to her cheek. “Perhaps one day...soon I’ll get to see your pale skin bound by my ropes and your breasts squeezed like that.”

“Perhaps.” She shifted. Her outfit was so tight it was almost like being bound now. She liked it, though, it was sexy, and knowing the zips could be undone and her body exposed added to the thrill.

“Come on,” Kane said, “this way.”

He led her into the drinks area. It was quiet and still, the bar shiny and clear of glasses. The cushions on the chairs were all neat and straight and several candles, in small jars, sent flickers up the walls and over the ceiling.

“Give me a twirl,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. “Let me get a proper look at this. You were secretive back in the apartment, putting that coat straight over the top.”

She smiled and did as he’d asked, rolling her hips as she walked in a circle, her high heels clicking on the hard floor.

“That’s definitely not one for the office,” he said. He stepped closer. “It would be better like this, though.” He reached for the zip that circled around her right breast. He undid it, slowly, the material peeling away from the rest of the outfit. Once it was detached, he dropped it on a nearby table and studied Imogen’s naked breast protruding from the gap.

Her nipple was tight and erect.

He reached for the other zipper and repeated his actions.

Now she had both breasts exposed. He’d been right to hire the place exclusively—she wouldn’t have been comfortable like this, especially without the mask.

“It’s stunning,” he said, skimming his hands down her waist and over her hips. “You’re stunning.” He pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here.” She adored seeing desire in his eyes, it was rich and reflected her own longing.

He took both her nipples and rolled them between his fingers and thumbs. “We have to make the most of our time.”

“Yes,” she managed.

“Every moment with you is precious.”

She felt the same. What they had was special—scary exciting sexy special. He released her nipples and reached into the pocket of his trousers. “Will you wear this again?” He withdrew the collar.

“If you want me to.”

“Yes, very much so. It completes the look.” He paused. “Plus, it means you’ve submitted to me, your Master, and I have control. When you wear this you’re mine.”

Imogen didn’t think Kane needed collars to have control over her, or anyone else, but she’d wear it because he wanted her to. Also, it did feel nice around her neck; the symbolism of it warmed her. She liked being his...a lot.

She held up her hair and turned.

Gently, he slipped it on then checked that it wasn’t too tight by sliding a finger between the leather and her throat. “So damn sexy,” he murmured against her ear. “Come on, let’s go through to the playroom.”

She released her hair and it swished down her back. She then allowed him to lead her through the metal mesh curtain into the room they’d watched the scenes in the night before.

Again the lights were dim, but each cubicle was lit, highlighting the bench, the cross, a table with stirrups, and a cage. It seemed strange without an audience, as if the equipment was sleeping somehow.

She could still smell sex, even though the large room was empty. Arousal and lust seemed to linger in the air, giving it a rich, musky scent.

Kane left her side and walked to the first cubicle. In it was a large black wheel with about a two meter diameter. He spun it. “Do you fancy this?” he asked. “Being attached, ankles and wrists, and spun?”

“Er, I’m not sure that I do. I get seasick...” It didn’t appeal to Imogen. Where was the fun in being spun like a fairground ride?

“It is very popular with some submissives.” He frowned a little.

“I’m sure. But not me.” She folded her arms but changed her mind when she remembered her naked breasts.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” He frowned.

“What?”

“What, Sir.” His frown deepened.

“Sorry, Sir.” But she still didn’t fancy the wheel.

“Remember to address me correctly when you’re wearing the collar,” he said, moving to the next cubicle. Imogen walked with him.

“How about this?” He lifted the lid on a wire cage. “Would you like it in here? Bound and waiting for me?”

“No I bloody wouldn’t!” Was he mad? How was a cage sexy?

“I won’t tell you again.” He dropped the lid with a crash.

“What?”

“What, Sir!” His voice was loud and echoed around the cubicle.

“I’m sorry, Sir. But it will always be no because how is a cage fun?”

“For some it is an expression of their total obedience and trust in their Master.” He tilted his chin and studied her. “That is what you need to understand.”

Imogen held his gaze. She was curious about spanking and submission and even bondage and anal sex, but going in a cage like an animal—it wasn’t for her.

“Touch that collar about your neck,” he said.

She did as he’d asked.

“Remember what it means, remember what I told you earlier. When you’re wearing that I am Sir and you only look at me when given permission.” She held his stare for a moment, unable to hide defiance, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “Yes...Sir,” she mumbled.

He walked up to her, his footsteps heavy on the floor.

He came close, so close she could feel his body heat on her naked breasts. “Be careful,” he said.

Imogen bit on her bottom lip. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

He stepped away.

She watched him move into another cubicle. This one contained what appeared to be a board that a person could be strapped onto.

Kane released a lever and pushed the top of the board. The whole thing tipped, completely, so that if anyone had been on it they’d be upside down. “What the...?” she murmured, wondering how a head rush could be erotic. “This,” Kane said, “is very popular and you shouldn’t rule it out until you’ve tried it.”

“Jesus, you want me to have a headache all night? That’s hardly going to be conducive to sexy times.” As she’d spoken she knew full well she’d been out of line. Not only had she not tagged Sir onto the end, she’d stared right at him.

He pressed his lips together and his chest expanded. In ten big strides he was beside her.

Suddenly, Imogen found herself in exactly the position she’d just scorned—inverted.

He’d tipped her over his knee as he’d sat hastily on the nearest sofa.

“Hey,” she gasped, the world turning upside down and her hair falling over her face and sweeping onto the floor. “What...?”

“I gave you plenty of warning,” he said, clamping her legs between his and pressing between her shoulder blades.

Here are the links - if you grab a free copy and enjoy Imogen and Kane's story please be sweet and leave a review and tell all of your friends...


Amazon   Amazon UK    Amazon Ca  Amazon De  Amazon Au

In Expert Hands also has a spin-off short story, In Safe Hands which features Taylor Ward. Find it in the Brit Babes Anthology Sexy Just Got Rich along with many more erotic novellas that are sure to delight you!