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When Sophie Jameson first became a domme at Club 1740, it was more out of financial necessity than it was for personal pleasure and sexual exploration. But over the years as she rocked her leather corsets and boots while wielding every crop and flogger imaginable, she grew to love the thrill and adulation that her clients brought her. But all along, her path in life and her heart was with a different profession—one she was planning to embark on at the summer’s end.
And then he changed everything. Tall, dark, impossibly built—William was the complete opposite of whatever image a male sub conjured up. After all the subs, Sophie finally felt true lust and desire. Although he was the proud stallion who needed breaking, he became the one to make her break all her rules and let down all her walls.
But it was just supposed to be for that one night, but an accidental encounter days later outside Club 1740’s protected walls had the two seeing each other in a different light—as simply Sophie and William, not Domme and sub. While they should have parted ways, they couldn’t. While they should never have gone back to her place, they did.
And that simple mistake has a serious price for both of them.
**Excerpt 1&2 are new to tour - Please choose one excerpt**
Subordination Excerpt #1
Keeping his head bowed, he asked, “Mistress, will you give me the honor of pleasuring you?”
I swept my hands to my hips. “Are you being insubordinate with me?”
“No, mistress. I just wish you would consider my offer.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I want to please you. I want to make you come as hard as you made me.”
“Sorry. The answer is still no,” I replied as I took the rope over to the sink to be disinfected.
When I turned around, surprised filled me at the sight of William on his feet again. His gaze still remained averted from mine. “Look at me,” I commanded.
He raised his eyes to stare at me full on as I walked back over to him. Although he was trying to mask it, I could tell he was hurt by my refusal. “I want you to understand that it’s not you—you didn’t do anything to displease me. I don’t receive pleasure from any of my subs.”
“You should,” he insisted.
Cocking my head at him, I said, “You should remember how to talk to your mistress.”
Instead of appearing apologetic, he took a step forward. “May I at least kiss you?”
As I gazed at his earnest expression, I didn’t see what it could hurt. “Fine. A kiss and then you go on your merry little way.” I poked a finger into his breastbone. “And you tip me well.”
William smiled. “Yes, Mistress.”
I stood toe to toe with William and tilted my chin. “Kiss me,” I instructed.
He dipped his head, and he closed his eyes. At the slight brush of his lips against mine, a shiver of anticipation shot down my spine. I felt like I was thirteen again with a boulder of anxiety in my stomach as the boy I liked kissed me behind our barn. When he deepened the kiss, he brought his arms around me, molding me to him. The kiss was everything—passionate, intimate, and affectionate. It felt like rediscovering a lost emotion—a lost part of me.
Needing more, I sucked his tongue inside my mouth. The moment I gave him the green light, a switch flipped inside William. The reverent way his mouth had worshipped mine was replaced with a desperate conquering. His tongue battled along with mine, sucking, licking, devouring. An ache began to build between my thighs, and I pressed my hips against William’s.
His hand left the small of my back to wrap around my braid. He tugged on it, pulling me back to look at him. “I want to taste every part you, not just your mouth.”
Breathless from our exertions, it took me a moment to find my voice. “I told you I don’t do that.”
“Why should you deny yourself?”
Staring into his handsome face, I wondered the same thing. All these years, I’d never taken any pleasure for myself. There had been subs I’d been attracted to like Owen. Not all of them were interested in reciprocating pleasure, but many were. And I told them all no.
As I stood molded against William’s warm, overpowering body like a second flesh, I didn’t want to argue anymore. I wanted to let go. I was a twenty-four year woman who had pretty much sacrificed her life for work, school, and her family. I couldn’t remember the last time an orgasm hadn’t come from a vibrating device.
Dipping his head, William’s breath was warm against my ear. “Please let me make you come.”
At the thought of what his mouth could do on my pussy, I whispered, “Yes.”
Subordination Excerpt #2
My steps faltered as I did a double take at the sight of what appeared to be a shirtless and shoeless Henry Cavill standing before me. The idea wasn’t entirely far-fetched since we’d had a few celebrities in the club. But as one of the strobe lights flickered to illuminate more of his face, I realized he was just a look-alike. His hair was lighter while his eyes were dark brown, rather than blue.
He was impossibly tall, and I couldn’t help staring at his muscular chest with its dusting of dark hair that led to an oh-so-happy trail that ended at the low hanging waistband of his jeans. He had an aura of importance about him, and I couldn’t help wondering who he was in real life.
He held my gaze for a moment before averting his eyes to the ground. “Good evening, Mistress.”
A submissive? I would have never imagined it in a million years. Even though I knew from my own clients that submissive men weren’t simpering pussies, there was something about this man that screamed dominant. Of course, the fact he was shoeless should have given his sub status away, but he wasn’t wearing a collar. A prime piece of submissive man like this usually belonged to someone. And if he didn’t, he would normally be snatched up by a domme practically before he got through the door, least of all across the dance floor. I couldn’t help wondering what his story was. More than anything, I wondered what it might be like to have a session with him. I so rarely took anyone on outside my usual clients. But it might be something fun for my last night in the club.
To test his true submissiveness, I commanded, “Look at me.”
He jerked his gaze from my boots to meet mine. “Are you looking to play tonight?”
“Yes, I am. And if it pleases you, mistress, I would be honored if you chose me.”
His voice. Sweet Jesus, was it was panty-melting. It totally went with his body—strong, firm, and deep. Although he had answered my question well, I still had my doubts. With all the strength I had, I reached out to firmly slap his cheek. The resounding smack echoed around us. A man playing at being a sub would have a distinct reaction. His eyes would darken with the rage seething within him at being treated so disrespectfully.
Oh, but not him. His face remained impassive. Yet at the same time, he shuddered, and his dark eyes flashed with a combustive mix of lust and desire. His reaction caused moisture to pool between my thighs. He reminded me of our horses back on the farm. He was a spirited stallion who needed a firm hand to break him, and damn me to hell if I didn’t want to be the one to do it.
Wanting to build the anticipation, I patted his cheek where I had previously slapped him. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He bowed his head before backing up.
Damn, someone had truly trained him well. I stepped past him to head to the bar. My mouth had run dry, and I desperately needed a drink.
Subordination Excerpt (Previously Released for Blitz)
In the distance, a figure crested the hill on his way down from the mountain. Something about the man appeared familiar. Over the years of running at the park, I was used to seeing fellow running acquaintances. But as the incredibly built man grew nearer, my stomach lurched. Oh no, this wasn’t possible. I couldn’t literally be running into someone I’d been in a scene with the night before. In the five years I’d worked at 1740, I had never, ever run into a client.
We were within a few feet of each other when he gave a complimentary nod of hello. Then he literally skidded to a stop, sending bits of gravel flying around us. Just as I started to pass him, acknowledgement of who I truly was flashed on his face.
FUUUUUCK I screamed in my head. With everything I had in me, I raced ahead.
“Mistress Juliette?” he called.
Those two little words from his mouth send me tripping over a limb. As I sprawled onto the ground, my knees bumped along the uneven terrain. Once I came to a stop, pain raged all through my body, although it was excruciatingly centralized in my right ankle.
I rolled into a sitting position and brought my hand to my tennis shoe. “Fuck,” I muttered. It was to address both the pain and the fact that a shadow had crossed over me. A bulky shadow belonging to the only sub I had ever let myself go with.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Mistress.”
My gaze spun wildly around the clearing. “Stop calling me that!” I hissed.
“I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
Damn, that voice of his. Momentarily forgetting my ankle, I could feel myself growing wet just from the deep timbre, not to mention how sexy his concern was.
“No, actually, I’m not.” I jerked my gaze from my foot up to his handsome face. “My ankle is throbbing like a mother fucker, not to mention I’m mortified as hell I just busted my ass right in front of you.”
The corners of his lips fluttered, and I could tell he was fighting the urge not to laugh at me. Without a word, he knelt down beside me. “Let me take a look.”
I jerked my foot away from his overeager hands, which caused me to wince from the pain. “I think you’ve done enough already.”
Cocking his dark brows at me, he said, “My mistress’s health and well-being is always my upmost concern.”
I fought the urge to smack him and not so he could get off on it. “Here’s a newsflash for you. We are not in 1740 anymore, Toto, so this whole sub taking care of his mistress bullshit isn’t going to fly.”
“I’m not in to dog play,” he countered, with a wink.
“Yeah, well, last time I checked, you’re not sporting my collar, so I’m not your mistress.”
“Ouch, you really bring out the claws when you’re hurting, don’t you?” When I opened my mouth to lay into him again, he brought a finger over my lips. “Quit your bitching, and let me check out your ankle, okay?”
“Are you a doctor or paramedic in real life?”
He smiled, causing those delicious dimples of his to pop out. “No, not quite.”
“Then how do I know you’re actually qualified to look at my ankle and not just wanting to cop a feel of my foot?”
With a chuckle, he replied, “Don’t have a foot fetish either.”
As he slid my tennis shoe off, I hissed. “Answer the question.”
“Easy now,” he murmured.
“What qualifies you to look at my ankle?” I demanded.
“I used to be a football coach.”
He laughed. “No, high school.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
“Yeah, you bandage at least one sprained ankle every game.” He glanced up at me. “Yours doesn’t feel sprained, but it’s definitely swollen. I have a first aid kit in my truck. I can bandage it for you.”
I eyed him suspiciously. As a submissive, I knew he truly subscribed to the code of conduct that his mistress always came first. But we weren’t in the club, and although club management did background checks that rivaled the FBI, he was still a stranger to me. Well, a stranger who I’d seen naked and bent over a spanking horse.
Knowing that I didn’t really have a choice, I huffed out a frustrated breath. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you take care of my ankle.”
“Try not to sound so excited about it, okay?” William said with a teasing expression.
About the Author
Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her daughter, Olivia, and her two very spoiled dogs. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Harry Potter, Shakespeare, Supernatural, Designing Women, and Scooby-Doo.
With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent 11 1/2 years educating the Youth of America aka teaching MS and HS English until she left to write full time in December 2012.
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