xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: March 2018

Friday, 30 March 2018

Was She a Whore? Or Was She Misunderstood #spicy #SatSpanks





Thanks you for dropping by. Saturday Spanks is the blog hop where authors share something hot and sexy for the weekend. Mine's from my book, Wickedly Used. 

Please read and enjoy. Use the links below to check out my fellow authors sexy snippets. 
Its a great way to start your weekend.


An adrenaline rush of fury ran ice-cold in Rothbury’s veins. Beth had sworn she wouldn’t turn whore. Now he found her half-naked, haggling with some soldiers over the price. Filthy and unkempt, Beth’s would-be lovers needed a bath more than they needed a woman. She should have known better than to come here with men like them. Her broken promises and lies made him want to spank some sense into her. That or forget he’d ever met her.
Despite everything, her jasmine perfume smelled as sweet and alluring as he remembered. No matter what promises she’d made those men, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Didn’t want to either.
His body burned for her. Stalking back to the hut, he pulled her into his arms. His kiss was raw, hungry, and punishing. She returned it with an eagerness that surprised him. Wrapping her arms around him, she arched her back to push her breasts against his chest. The last few weeks he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Now, when he held her again, the world seemed a better place.

Grab a Copy today


Blurb

While he is no stranger to pleasurable company from ladies of the night, Major Richard Rothbury of the royal dragoons is not the kind of man who will stand idly by as a woman is taken against her will, and when he witnesses a disreputable cad attempting to force himself on a girl in a back alley, he does not hesitate to intervene.

But after the grateful young woman offers herself to Rothbury, he is shocked to discover that not only was she no harlot, she was a maiden and he has deflowered her. Furious at the girl’s scandalous behavior and her carelessness with her own safety, Rothbury chastises her soundly.

Though she is due to inherit one of the largest fortunes in England, the fact that she cannot touch the money until she marries or turns thirty has kept Elizabeth completely at the mercy of her cruel uncle, and for years she has been treated as if she were a servant. Her encounter with Lord Rothbury is by far the most exciting thing that has ever happened to her, but while he shows great concern for her safety, he refuses to believe that she is anything more than a serving girl.

Despite having made it clear that he doesn’t consider a match between them to be possible, when Elizabeth disobeys him Rothbury proves more than ready to strip her bare, punish her harshly, and then enjoy her beautiful body in the most shameful of ways. But can she dare to hope that he will one day make her his wife, or is she destined to spend her life being wickedly used?

Publisher’s Note: Wickedly Used: A Dark Regency Romance includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.



Kryssie's Social Media


Social Media Links Kryssie Fortune Social Media

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune
Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ
Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO




Thursday, 29 March 2018

Knights, Jousts, and Vampires #contemporary #vampire #romance




knight is a person granted an honorary title of knighthood by a monarch or other political leader for service to the monarch or country, especially in a military capacity. 
 By the Late Middle Ages, the rank had become associated with the ideals of chivalry, a code of conduct for the perfect courtly Christian warrior. 

Often, a knight was a vassal who served as a fighter for a lord, with payment in the form of land holdings. The lords trusted the knights, who were skilled in battle on horseback.




When I think of knights, I think of stylized tournaments and jousts. 






Why my interest in knights?
Because my latest hero was one, once.  His order, the Knights Defender stole his soul and turned him vampire. He's wandered the world for eight hundred years. His emotions have faded and he's forgotten how to feel. Color has faced from his vision, and he sees the world in shades of gray.



Blurb
Crusader knight, Blaxton de Ferrers rises as a vampire after the Knights Defender steal his soul. Murdered by his cousin, he preys on the people he once swore to protect. His emotions leach out of him. Gradually, he forgets how to feel. 
Eight hundred years later, he meets Harriet.
Harriet Mortlake’s a strong, sassy woman who battles her weight and her temper. She’s the modern-day archivist in the castle which was Blaxton’s childhood home. She’s supposed to ferret out the castle’s secrets. Instead, she finds the love of her life.
When danger threatens Harriet, Blaxton steps in. Harriet and Blaxton are a match made in heaven. Except… he’s a vampire and he’s destined for hell. 

Previously sold as Knights Vampire

Buy Links
Amazon USA            http://amzn.to/2pgAf24
Amazon UK              http://amzn.to/2pnLBAe
Amazon Canada       http://amzn.to/2FYZKhT
Amazon Australia     http://amzn.to/2FSUUiV

OR READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

Excerpt
The two new vampires kept their gaze locked on Blaxton. Do they think he’s their next meal or something?
She grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed foam in their faces. The blond one growled and turned toward her. The dark-haired one kept his focus on Blaxton. Once she’d emptied the extinguisher, she hurled it at the blond vampire as he stalked closer to her. Blinded by foam, he never saw it coming. It knocked him off his feet, and he skidded about in a sea of suds.
“I’ve got this!” Harriet yelled and picked up another fire extinguisher. When the fallen vampire tried to stand, his feet shot sideways, and he knocked his companion to the ground. Both swore and hissed as they flailed around on the cobbled ground.
Blaxton grinned at the mayhem Harriet caused. His laughter died when the dark-haired vampire drew a dagger. Blaxton roared and kicked it out of his hand.
Blondie, the vampire who’d pursued Harriet, snarled and struggled to regain his feet. Harriet let rip with a second fire extinguisher, blasting carbon dioxide in his face. He coughed and spluttered, but the steady stream of gas cleared the foam from his eyes. He stalked her, all lethal intent—a predator cornering his prey.
Harriet hurled the empty fire extinguisher at him. He knocked it aside as though it weighed nothing and kept coming.
His dark-haired companion laughed as he floundered in the foam. “The Saracens wouldn’t have stood a chance if she’d fought alongside us.”
In the shadows, Rolfe hauled himself upright and leaned against the wall. He winced when his injured leg touched the floor, but he drew his sword and hurled it at Blaxton’s back.


Tuesday, 27 March 2018

Fire Extinguisher Fight #midweektease #new #vampire 'romance


MidWeekTease4


This blog gave me such a warm welcome last week that I have to come back. Thank you everyone who took the time say "Hi."

Once you've read this, please take a moment to check out the snippets my fellow authors have posted using the links below.

This week, my tease comes from my new release, One Knight Stand.

 The two new vampires kept their gaze locked on Blaxton. Do they think he’s their next meal or something?
She grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed foam in their faces. The blond one growled and turned toward her. The dark-haired one kept his focus on Blaxton. Once she’d emptied the extinguisher, she hurled it at the blond vampire as he stalked closer to her. Blinded by foam, he never saw it coming. It knocked him off his feet, and he skidded about in a sea of suds.
“I’ve got this!” Harriet yelled and picked up another fire extinguisher. When the fallen vampire tried to stand, his feet shot sideways, and he knocked his companion to the ground. Both swore and hissed as they flailed around on the cobbled ground.
Blaxton grinned at the mayhem Harriet caused. His laughter died when the dark-haired vampire drew a dagger. Blaxton roared and kicked it out of his hand.
Blondie, the vampire who’d pursued Harriet, snarled and struggled to regain his feet. Harriet let rip with a second fire extinguisher, blasting carbon dioxide in his face. He coughed and spluttered, but the steady stream of gas cleared the foam from his eyes. He stalked her, all lethal intent—a predator cornering his prey.
Harriet hurled the empty fire extinguisher at him. He knocked it aside as though it weighed nothing and kept coming.
His dark-haired companion laughed as he floundered in the foam. “The Saracens wouldn’t have stood a chance if she’d fought alongside us.”

In the shadows, Rolfe hauled himself upright and leaned against the wall. He winced when his injured leg touched the floor, but he drew his sword and hurled it at Blaxton’s back.

Buy Links
PLEASE NOTE – FORMERLY SOLD AS KNIGHTS VAMPIRE)
Amazon USA            http://amzn.to/2pgAf24
Amazon UK              http://amzn.to/2pnLBAe
Amazon Canada       http://amzn.to/2FYZKhT
Amazon Australia     http://amzn.to/2FSUUiV


Blurb
Crusader knight, Blaxton de Ferrers rises as a vampire after the Knights Defender steal his soul. Murdered by his cousin, he preys on the people he once swore to protect. His emotions leach out of him. Gradually, he forgets how to feel. 
Eight hundred years later, he meets Harriet.
Harriet Mortlake’s a strong, sassy woman who battles her weight and her temper. She’s the modern-day archivist in the castle which was Blaxton’s childhood home. She’s supposed to ferret out the castle’s secrets. Instead, she finds the love of her life.
When danger threatens Harriet, Blaxton steps in. Harriet and Blaxton are a match made in heaven. Except… he’s a vampire and he’s destined for hell. 
 Previously sold as Knights vampire.




Bad Blood #MFRWHooks Vampire #Romance






Welcome to the Book Hook's blog hop. Please take a moment to check out the other extracts using the links below

My hook today is from my new release One Knight Stand.


This is the first time Rolf de Ferrers makes an appearance. He's the corrupt crusader knight who tricked his cousin Blaxton, my hero, out of his soul and turned him vampire. He's spying on Blaxton as he and Harriet share coffee inside. 




Extract

Outside the apartment, the watcher—Rolfe de Ferrers—stood in a nearby doorway. He hated the endless waiting and futile searches. Whitborough Castle held a diamond-encrusted chalice forged from pure gold. It belonged to him by right, but nine centuries ago, his aunt had hidden it before he killed her. Its value didn’t lie in its craftsmanship or its materials. It carried an age-old magic only the Knights Defender’s Grandmaster could wield. Make that former Grandmaster since I staked the old bastard’s heart. I need that blasted chalice. Without it, I can’t claim my true place and rule the order.

Even though he’d turned them into blood slaves, the two previous archivists had failed him. So, I got a little impatient, but who cares about cattle? They were old and crusty, lacking the imagination of the vibrant blonde who held the post now.



Buy Links
PLEASE NOTE – FORMERLY SOLD AS KNIGHTS VAMPIRE)
Amazon USA            http://amzn.to/2pgAf24
Amazon UK              http://amzn.to/2pnLBAe
Amazon Canada       http://amzn.to/2FYZKhT
Amazon Australia     http://amzn.to/2FSUUiV


Blurb
Crusader knight, Blaxton de Ferrers rises as a vampire after the Knights Defender steal his soul. Murdered by his cousin, he preys on the people he once swore to protect. His emotions leach out of him. Gradually, he forgets how to feel. 
Eight hundred years later, he meets Harriet.
Harriet Mortlake’s a strong, sassy woman who battles her weight and her temper. She’s the modern-day archivist in the castle which was Blaxton’s childhood home. She’s supposed to ferret out the castle’s secrets. Instead, she finds the love of her life.
When danger threatens Harriet, Blaxton steps in. Harriet and Blaxton are a match made in heaven. Except… he’s a vampire and he’s destined for hell. 

Previously sold as Knights Vampire.

More about Kryssie Fortune

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae or BDSM loving dragons. 
Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life - or Kryssie - throws at them.

Kryssie's pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.


Kryssie Fortune Social Media

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune





One Knight Stand - by Kryssie Fortune #excerpt #PNR #Romance


Reworked and re-edited 

Buy Links
PLEASE NOTE – FORMERLY SOLD AS KNIGHTS VAMPIRE)
Amazon USA            http://amzn.to/2pgAf24
Amazon UK              http://amzn.to/2pnLBAe
Amazon Canada       http://amzn.to/2FYZKhT
Amazon Australia     http://amzn.to/2FSUUiV


Blurb
Crusader knight, Blaxton de Ferrers rises as a vampire after the Knights Defender steal his soul. Murdered by his cousin, he preys on the people he once swore to protect. His emotions leach out of him. Gradually, he forgets how to feel. 
Eight hundred years later, he meets Harriet.
Harriet Mortlake’s a strong, sassy woman who battles her weight and her temper. She’s the modern-day archivist in the castle which was Blaxton’s childhood home. She’s supposed to ferret out the castle’s secrets. Instead, she finds the love of her life.
When danger threatens Harriet, Blaxton steps in. Harriet and Blaxton are a match made in heaven. Except… he’s a vampire and he’s destined for hell. 

Previously sold as Knight’s vampire


Excerpt
“How dare you embarrass me like that?” Harriet Mortlake planted her hands on her hips and glowered at the man she’d cornered outside the cafe. Her normal iceberg cool deserted her, and she wanted to slap the condescending smile off his face. Around this stranger, she felt as though lightning bolts flashed from her eyes.
“It’s a temple, not a chapel,” he insisted.
Stubborn. Damn. Male. She’d been showing the big guns from the Castles’ Management Trust around the building. They’d already made it clear they thought her too young for the archivist’s role. This know-it-all had infuriated her when he sounded off in the chapel. Now he antagonized her all over again.
 “As if!” Harriet snorted. “No way would medieval Christians build a pagan temple on their grounds. Superstitious locals would have accused them of devil worship. They burned heretics at the stake, remember?”
Despite Mr. Condescending’s interference, she’d impressed the big bosses—she thought. Now the sexiest male, ever, clung to his ridiculous belief the chapel had been a pagan temple.
He flashed her a smile which would have lit up the underground chapel where he’d embarrassed her earlier. He should keep his mouth shut and let her admire his looks. Everything about him radiated sex appeal. Looking at him almost made her anger evaporate, but he gave her the know-it-all look that made her bristle.
“You need to get your facts right,” he told her, determined to have the last word.
Stupid, arrogant male. She couldn’t decide whether to show him her diplomas and degrees or kick his shins. She’d reined in her temper while the higher-ups carried out their inspection. Now they’d left, she felt free to vent her rage. Hands still on her hips, she tapped her foot at him.
“Lost for words without an audience? Or don’t you have any facts to back up your cock-and-bull story? Put up or shut up, Mister. Tell me why you think it’s a temple.”
Mr. Condescending sat outside the castle’s tearoom as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His interference when she’d shown the bigwigs into the chapel could have cost her the job she loved. Whitborough Castle’s extensive records needed cataloging, and Harriet couldn’t wait to get her hands on them.


More about Kryssie Fortune
Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae or BDSM loving dragons. Then there's this Knights Defender turned vampire...
Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life - or Kryssie - throws at them.

Kryssie's pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.



Kryssie Fortune Social Media

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune
Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ
Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Monday, 26 March 2018

Six of the Best - A British Spanking Anthology #SpankingRomance #DomesticDiscipline #HistoricalRomance #HEA


Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BBTCV94  - PTags: #SpankingRomance #Spanking #DomesticDiscipline #HistoricalRomance #HEA
Blurb:
Assume the position and prepare for Six of the Best!

Six SCORCHING stories from USA Today and number 1 bestselling British authors! This is the 100% British historical anthology you've been waiting for. So, grab a cup of tea and make sure the smelling salts are to hand, then settle in as our heroines re-write the rules and earn SIX OF THE BEST for their outrageous antics. This dance across history sweeps from the Restoration to Victorian times and will leave you panting almost as much as our naughty ladies.

Publisher's note: These stories are HOT. Hotter than an oven full of muffins in a well-known British cake show. Domestic discipline and other indoor sports feature heavily in them, so if that's not your cup of tea, this is probably not the set for you. Don't say we didn't warn you!

Snippets
“How utterly beguiling… Yet now we come to the truly tantalising part. Now we reveal just how much mettle the lady has. Will you yield to me further this night, or will you refuse me?”
“Yield as you have yielded,” he tells me, his brown eyes dancing as he watches my expression. “And then, when you are certain that it is not possible, you will yield to me further.”
He is the devil in disguise, a debauch and beguiling demon, sent forth to worship and corrupt me. The thought makes me smile, in spite of my shame on the subject.
I want him to kiss me, to claim me, to own me. I desire it in a way I have no right to do. I demand it.
This is a perilous game, and one which I am almost certain to lose. If I play badly, then I risk upsetting him and my family will bear the brunt of my failure. Yet if I win – ah, if I win – I could lose something far more precious than even wealth or my reputation; I could lose my heart.
The King wants to spank me, and I know it will hurt, but worse still, I find that I wholeheartedly welcome it. I need his touch – I need the sensation – and I need to find that euphoria he had delivered after the pain yesterday.
First meeting
You are most welcome here in my court, Lady Jane,” he purrs, his eyes devouring the cut of my bodice, and rising north over my throat and mouth.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I whisper, my words barely audible over the sound of my racing heart.
He smiles, the sort of expression which could melt through the bitter English snow. “I hope I’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the coming weeks.”
I risk a glance at him, and for just the briefest moment our eyes lock. He smoulders at me, those large brown eyes conveying the message he wants to deliver. And I hear it.
Every. Single. Word.

Sensual
“I’m going to give you what I need to give, Lady Jane—what we both need,” he murmurs, and I still, tensing as his words echo some of my own private thought processes. “I shall give enough for us both, and when I give, I do so with no ulterior motive. I want nothing in return, save for your obedience. I will not take pleasure for myself. I will savour the pleasure of this intimacy—of our time together—the time when I discipline you.” He pauses, his fingers caressing my goosing skin as the silence presses down upon me. “So, my beautiful lady, take my discipline, receive it, and there you shall find me. That is the place we shall be together.”
I twist my head at his explanation, searching for his face in the shadows of his chambers. Our eyes connect briefly, and I swallow at the intensity of it. The idea of the King and I being together makes the wet muscles between my legs clench. Yet this is what he offers me, this time and this intimacy, and in taking charge of me this way, he keeps his word and leaves my virginity intact.

Spanked
One stride and he is right against me, his breath hot over my face, laced with the expensive wine we consumed earlier in the evening. “Yes, Lady Jane,” he answers. “This is where you shall be bared and spanked.”
Bared? I know my eyes widen at the word. “I am to be bared, Your Majesty?” I say, forcing the words from my mouth in a rush of anxious excitement. “All of me?”
He breaks into a low laugh. “There is a choice,” he replies, pushing my shoulders gently downwards, so that my bottom falls to the soft bedding below me. Now he towers over me, and as I raise my head to see him, my eyes meet his groin. I still at the sudden proximity to the place I know conceals His Majesty’s passion, my gaze lingering longer than it has right to, before rising slowly to meet his delicious brown eyes. His grin widens, acknowledging the brazen nature of my thoughts, and unbelievably I blush again, grateful for the shadows which may just hide my shame.
“A choice, Your Majesty?” I manage, my chest rising and falling faster with each passing moment.
He lowers himself in front of me, so that our eyes are at the same level. “A choice,” he agrees, pressing himself forward over my body. I gasp as he shifts his weight, his dexterity taking me by surprise. The sudden appearance of his face forces me backwards, and I find myself pinioned beneath his body, my legs splayed awkwardly under the skirts of my gown.
“There is always a choice, Lady Jane,” he murmurs, the strands of his dark curls hanging about my face.
I bite my lip, confusion and arousal at my change of circumstances, combined with my restricting bodice making it hard to breath. “What is the choice, Your Majesty?” I gasp.
The smile on his face is sin itself, and in this moment, I know that I have walked straight into his trap, although whether I have done so willingly or not is not even clear to me. “You can either be upturned over my knee, your skirts hoisted high over your back so that your delicious bottom is exposed to my palm, or…” He pauses, angling the weight of his stare over my face.
My mind, filled with the image he has just painted of me, reels at the silence. Is he expecting me to reply? What is the etiquette for such moments?
His expression shifts into a low chuckle as he appraises whatever constitutes my expression at this moment, and fortunately he once again takes pity on me, his humble servant. “Or, you can be stripped entirely.”
This time I cannot conceal the audible gasp which escapes from my lips. “Entirely, Your Majesty?” I repeat, as though surely his words cannot be real. Although of course I know them to be true, having only just left four naked ladies in the prior room.
“Yes, dear Jane,” he muses from over me. “A lady can only truly be admired in her own, natural form.”
I contemplate him, this man—my monarch—who has captured me so easily into his delicious game. “No one has ever seen me bare, Your Majesty,” I whisper, the words an admission of my innocence—a fact I have already articulated.
He nods. “I know,” he replies. “And I assume that until this night no man has ever claimed your sweet mouth, spoken to you of such lewd subjects, or pinned you against his bed?”
His brow rises as he speaks, the small gesture releasing a flood of moisture from between my legs. I am not absolutely clear what it is about him which is so alluring, but he most certainly has it. Yes, he is the King, and yet it is so much more than that. He is the devil in disguise, a debauch and beguiling demon, sent forth to worship and corrupt me. The thought makes me smile, in spite of my shame on the subject.
“You’re correct, Your Majesty,” I say with a small nod. “You are the first, on all counts.”
Smiling at the acknowledgment, he lowers his face into mine. Those full lips graze my mouth, parting my lips in an instant as my eyes slip shut. I want him to kiss me, to claim me, to own me. I desire it in a way I have no right to do. I demand it.

Intimacy
He towers over me, and I peek up at him from around my arranged curls to meet that devilish grin again. “Lady Jane,” he purrs from above me, “you have perhaps heard stories about me from other ladies at court… about my desires?”
I hold my breath at his words. What can I say? “I have heard some tales, Your Majesty,” I whisper in a long rush of breath, “But I know no details.”
“Good,” he murmurs, his smile mesmerising. “Because there are many details which are private, and need to remain so, but there is something about you, My Lady.” He pauses, leaning in towards me. “Something about you which stirs a passion in me I cannot quell. I want not only to share supper with you, Lady Jane. I should like also to share a great many other things… private things.”
His tone is utterly captivating, and my mind scatters at the notion of sharing any intimacy greater than this moment. But, whilst I am a maiden, I am not a fool. I am aware of his intention, and of my own simmering need for the things he alludes to. I wonder how I can respond to a question like this – to the King of all people – but he saves me the humiliation and descends upon me. His lips meet mine, crashing against me with the kind of passion I have only dreamt about. His left arm closes in around my waist, encircling it and holding me in place as his lips master me. I open for him out of instinct, yielding to his tongue as it sweeps behind my lips. As he pulls away I am left reeling, unsure if I am even able to stand on my own. Fortunately, his hand stays in place, securing my body against him.
The King stares down at me, pressing me for an answer with his deep brown eyes. “Jane?” he says, leaning in to kiss me again. A short, firm kiss this time, which leads him right around my jaw to my neckline. The feeling of his facial hair against me and the warmth of his mouth is incredible.
“Your Majesty?” I gasp, unable to articulate much more.
“Tell me, are my instincts correct?” he asks me. “Can I trust you to share my deepest, darkest desires?”
I blink at him, barely able to catch my breath. “You can trust me, Your Majesty,” I assure him. “You can trust me in all things.”

Spanking Surrender
“I should like to bare your delicious derriere, my dear, explore its tender form, its divine shape, feel the weight of it in my hands, and then…” He pauses, his eyes full of salacious delight as the intensity of his gaze falls upon me. “And then I shall spank you.”
The words echo through the chambers of my mind. Spank me? I swallow, the action slow and deep, and almost symbolic, as though whatever I say next is imperative. My consent at this point will unleash events which I can never return from.
“Spank me, your Majesty?”
I need the clarification from those full, demanding lips, even though I heard him very well the first time around.
The lips part, breaking into that smile again, the one which burns the pulse at my core. “Yes, my dear,” he replies.
“But, but…” I splutter, trying to bring form to the words which are swimming in my head. “But I have done nothing wrong?” I gasp. “And if I have caused offence to Your Majesty, then please – tell me how?”
My heart is hammering in my chest, threatening to explode. He wants to spank me? But why? What have I done wrong which could be the cause of such an undignified penance?
“Hush,” comes the reply, the fingers at my face caressing the skin there thoughtfully. “I shall spank your exposed and pert little behind, not as penitence. I shall do so for my own pleasure.” There is a pause as he permits the words to permeate into my mind. “I shall enjoy the look of it, and the feel of each sensation against your tender flesh. And you, dear Jane, you shall do as you promised. You shall yield to me, accept the brunt of my palm, be awash with the sensation, and we shall see…” He concludes, but the ending seems abrupt and unnatural.
“What shall we see, Your Majesty?” I force the words out in a gasp, my head still reeling from the revelation that the King wants to spank me for merriment.
He eyes me intently, that small smirk reforming at his mouth. “We shall see if I am correct about you. We shall see if you dance to the tune of my spanking – if your body enjoys the surrender.”


Tags: #SpankingRomance #Spanking #DomesticDiscipline #HistoricalRomance #HEA