Saturday Spankings

Welcome to Saturday Spankings. I hope everyone is well and the sun is shining. This week a few from my popular soccer novel SCORED which is now available from a variety of different platforms and as an audio book.

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Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after? 

So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no? 

Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare. 

After soaping himself down Lewis stepped from the bath. His movements were as graceful as ever as the water trickled in small rivers over the perfect dents and ripples of his body.

Quickly I rubbed the creamy bar of soap over myself, splashed water onto my breasts to rinse the suds, then stood.

He held up a huge white towel and wrapped me in it. “Are you cold?” he asked.

“No, not at all.”

“Good.” He had that look in his eye again. The one that made me feel like I was being hunted and just one teeny tiny step away from being caught. I liked it, that feeling. It was new and had an edge of danger to it. Kind of like playing with fire or knives or poking a wasps’ nest. I hoped to hell I wouldn’t get burned, cut or stung though. That didn’t appeal at all.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, hooking a towel around his lean waist.

I stepped from the bath. “Yes, I think so.”

A slow smiled curved his mouth. “That was the right answer.”

He pressed his hand into the base of my spine and urged me into the bedroom. I stopped by the bed and looked at the pile of pillows. There were two ties laid out on them. England ties, blue with the three-lion crest dotted all over them. The sort the team wore for official photographs.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to see what I’m doing to you. Your only requirement is to hand yourself over to sensation.” He pressed his mouth to my ear and a delectable shiver crept down my neck. “Let me be in charge of your pleasure, Nicky. I promise it will blow your mind.”