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Out Now—Making Him Wait by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee) #bdsmromance #erotica #eroticromance

Kay Jaybee’s popular BDSM-romance novel is back!

Re-released by the brilliant Sinful Press, Making Him Wait, is every bit as hot the second time around.

“Erotica on a canvas of bondage and discipline.”

It’s amazing where a drive to live out your fantasies, a paint brush, and a text message can lead you…

Blurb

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas. But when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge.

Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. However, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out.

At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted.

Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time? The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

EXCERPT

The extract I have chosen to share with you today comes from the very beginning of the book…

Freya rocked a little on her bare feet as Maddie touched her lightly freckled cheek. “No need to look so worried, honey. You are doing brilliantly. It’s a difficult pose to hold for so long.”

“Thank you.” Blushing an endearing shade of pink, Freya lowered the hands she’d nervously clenched before her, giving her employer another chance to see the neat triangle of her semi-shaved pussy.

Maddie, her jeans and t-shirt smeared and spattered with all the mediums of her trade, did not feel the need to mention to Freya that her own knickers were sodden, nor that beneath her holster bra, her nipples were rock hard.

A further buzz from her mobile alerted Maddie to the arrival of another text message. In fact a steady string of muffled noises from her mobile, coming from the pit of her handbag, had been announcing the arrival of texts every ten minutes or so throughout the morning.

Smiling to herself, Maddie continued to disregard her phone and considered the exquisite outline of her companion’s porcelain frame. Most people came to Maddie to be drawn or painted, sometimes as a commission for a lover, husband or wife. Some, however, like Freya, came to the studio as a way of improving their self-confidence. Despite her generally shy demeanour, Freya had proved to be very good at posing as Maddie required and the artist had offered her an occasional job as a life model.

Sometimes Maddie felt she was more therapist than artist – specifically a sex therapist – as men and women alike shared their most intimate secrets while standing on the other side of her easel. Maddie’s studio certainly had the air of an erotic fantasy confessional about it. She wasn’t complaining, however. No other life would do for her now. The job satisfaction Maddie achieved from listening to the dreams and fantasies of others while she recreated them onto canvas, went hand in glove with the personal physical gratification it gave her.

Money being either plentiful or non-existent, depending on the current success of her commissions and sales, Maddie had been forced to develop an alternative form of payment for her models – a reward system for good work. Maddie could tell from the rise and fall of Freya’s chest and the glistening damp skin at the top of her thighs, that she was more than ready to be paid for today’s session.

Closing in on her model, Maddie simultaneously cupped Freya’s slick pussy and left breast with her charcoal-blackened hands, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through the younger woman’s body.

“Your progress really is outstanding, honey. Few of my models can stay as motionless as you can.” Congratulating Freya on her skill, Maddie left two dark palm prints on the girl’s tits and tapped at the inside of her legs. “Open up. I think you have deserved a treat after all your hard work.”

Gliding her palm over Freya’s mound, Maddie slipped a gentle finger into the slippery canal of the model’s frantically clutching sex, enjoying the murmured mew of contentment that escaped from her lipstick-free mouth.

Pumping gently, the artist brought Freya close to orgasm with steady increases and decreases of pressure – her own mind straying to her mobile. Maddie wondered where Theo was and what he was doing. She knew what he was thinking about. She always knew that. Theo thought about her…

Praise for Making Him Wait-

“Making Him Wait” held me captive, made me blush, had me yearning for more before I was even ready to let the previous chapter go. The story unfolds dripping with eroticism, every character wantonly submitting to Maddie’s artistic, commanding eye… Erotica’s “Queen of Kink” has nailed the freedom of Kink, fearlessly. Kay Jaybee writes with a masterful insight and sucks her readers into the fascinating domain of domination and submission. A realm where one’s words must be listened to very carefully and choices are empowering.’ Rose Caraway.

Artist, lover, dominatrix, Maddie has sculpted from her surroundings the perfect life and Kay Jaybee in ‘Making Him Wait’ the picture-perfect set up for an unhurried, well-written, hugely entertaining, multi-media journey into classy erotica – men, women, whatever your fancy, Mistress Jaybee guides you through her Chinese puzzle of a plot in a way that stole my breath and made my underarms tingle…Mesmerising, thrilling, word perfect, a triumph.” Chloe Thurlow

If you would like to buy Making Him Wait, it is available as a paperback or e-book from all good retailers, including-

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/makinghimwaitkjb

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/making-him-wait-kay-jaybee/1127821931?ean=9781910908228

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/making-him-wait/id1336576037?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/making-him-wait-4

Bio

Kay Jaybee has over 150 publications to her name, including the novels Making Him Wait, (Sinful Press, second edition, 2018), and The Fifth Floor – The Perfect Submissive Book One (KJ Books, third edition, 2017). She has also written the novellas Wednesday on Thursday (KJ Books, 2017), Take Control (1001Nights Press, 2014), Digging Deep, (Xcite Press, 20153), A Sticky Situation (Xcite Press, 2013), and Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man (1001 Nights Press, 2014). She has written the anthologies The Collector (KJBooks, 2016), and A Kink a Day Books 1-3 (available via the Radish reading app).

Details of Kay’s work, past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Release blitz organised by
Writer Marketing Services.

 

“…with our lover asleep upstairs.” #MWTease #MFRWAuthor #99cents

Welcome to MidWeek Tease, where authors share tempting snippets to tide you over till the weekend. A huge shout out to author Angelica Dawson for hosting our blog hop every week!

We’re beyond excited to be part of the erotic romance LGBTQ Special Edition Box set All You Need is Love, releasing February 13 and now up for pre-order for just 99 cents!

Here’s another teaser from our contribution, Three: A Love Story.

EXCERPT

Set-Up: Our threesome has just experienced their first three-way…

Slowly, Mason opened one eyelid and then the other to see Susan eyeing him thoughtfully.

She slanted a finger across her lips and gestured toward a snoozing Jamie. “All of the built-up tension over the last several days must’ve drained her,” Susan whispered.

Mason nodded, but he didn’t know quite what was expected of him—of them—now. If Jamie was awake, she’d sort things out, but she was asleep.

Susan’s eyes sparkled. She leaned closer and flicked her tongue at his ear. “Let’s go get some water. We both probably need to replenish before turning our attention to Jams.”

“Sure,” Mason said, moving carefully off the bed, with Susan following. She was behaving as if nothing momentous had occurred. Okay, he could do that.

He led the way downstairs to the kitchen. Neither of them had bothered with a wrap. He grabbed a water from the fridge for Susan, took one for himself, and then another for Jamie.

“So,” Susan said after downing a quarter of a bottle of water, “was that as surprising to you as it was to me? You can be completely honest with me. We don’t have Jams here trying to put the best spin on everything. It’s just you and me.”

“So it is. Honesty has to be a foundation, no matter how all of this works out in the long run.”

“If it even has a chance to work out in the long run.”

“Exactly. To answer your question, I didn’t really know what to expect.” He shook his head. “That was mind blowing, that’s for sure.”

Susan arched an eyebrow. “But what it means remains up in the air?”

“True. No matter what Jamie thinks, a spectacular afternoon of sex isn’t going to produce what she’s hoping for.”

Susan winced.

“At least not immediately. And to be perfectly honest, I didn’t know you had that much passion. I didn’t know if I’d ever get my cock back. Not that I was in a hurry to retrieve it.”

“Couldn’t remain standing any longer.” She laughed, looked at him in a funny way, and laughed again.

“What is it? Is it something I said?”

“No. Not that. It’s us. Here we are standing stark naked in your kitchen discussing some of the most outrageous sex either of us may have ever had, with our lover asleep upstairs.”

BLURB

Three: A Love Story

Three lives—but how many loves?

Committed lovers for three years, Jamie and Susan are good together. Jamie knows she wants Susan in her life forever. But what if that’s not enough?

Both bi, the two have continued dating men occasionally, and now Jamie’s falling in love with Mason. Can she love two persons? Will her love for either one wrench the other one out of her life?

Jamie’s convinced a long-term three-way relationship is the answer, but none of the players is prepared for what’s coming. Two-way relationships are hard enough—is a three-way even possible? And if so, what must each of them give up to create it?

BOXED SET BLURB

All You Need is Love

Romance Collections is proud to present these fourteen stories of love that knows no boundaries. Like rivers flowing through the canvas of earth, these stories will run deep, touch softly and leave you breathless.

No matter who it is with, passion is magnificent, desires are bold, and love is beautiful.

Fourteen new stories
from these marvelous authors!

Tamsin Baker;‎ Jess Buffett,‎ Kristine Cayne,‎
Adriana Kraft,‎ Cate Farren,‎ Valerie Ullmer,‎
Kai Tyler,‎ Lexi Thorne,‎ Izzy Szyn,‎
Aeryn Jaden, Dana Kenzi, Celia Fay,
Avery Sky, and Dani Gray.

PRE-ORDER LINKS $.99

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078PZR8HY

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/all-you-need-is-love-27

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/all-you-need-is-love/id1330261438?mt=11

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/all-you-need-is-love-tamsin-baker/1127753593?ean=2940154950586

 

~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~

Be sure to check out the rest of the Midweek teases from these marvelous authors:

 

Out Now! Buried Pleasures (Medusa’s Consortium series book 3) by K D Grace (@kd_grace) #newrelease #urbanfantasy #uf

Buried Pleasures by K D Grace

Blurb:

When Samantha Black shares her sandwich with a dog, his owner, Jon—a homeless man living in the Las Vegas storm tunnels—gives her a poker chip worth a fortune from the exclusive casino, Buried Pleasures. All Sam has to do is cash it in. Sam is in Vegas for one reason only—to get her friend, Evie Holt, away from sinister magician, Darian Fox, who holds her prisoner in an effort to force Sam to perform at his club, Illusions. A neon circus tent of strange and mystical acts, Illusions is one of the biggest draws in Vegas, and he’s hell-bent on including Sam in his disturbing plans.

The shadowy Magda Gardener will do anything to keep Sam from cashing in that chip. She knows that Buried Pleasures is the gate to Hades and cashing in the chip is a one-way ticket across the River Styx, which runs beneath the storm tunnels of Vegas. Jon is really Jack Graves, owner of Buried Pleasures, and Graves is really the god of death, himself, and if things aren’t already confusing enough, he and Magda know what Sam doesn’t. Sam is the last siren. That her song can kill is only the beginning of her story. Jon wants her safe on his side of the River, protected from Fox’s hideous magic. But even Death fears Magda Gardener, who is none other than Medusa, and the gorgon has her own agenda. If Sam is to understand her heritage and win the battle against Darian Fox, not only will she have to trust her heart to Death, but they’ll both have to work for the gorgon, whose connection with Sam runs deeper than any of them could imagine.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/buriedpleasures

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/buried-pleasures-k-d-grace/1127222027?ean=2940154583531

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/buried-pleasures/id1295660281?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/buried-pleasures-1

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/753121?ref=cw1985

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36401609-buried-pleasures

EXCERPT

Rated R

Excerpt: So much more than La Petit Mort

With a soft clink, Fox dropped the key in a small ceramic bowl on the dresser, not bothering to lock the door behind him. There was no need now.

He heard the rustle of bedding and a soft female moan before his eyes fully adjusted to the gloom. Then he saw the shape of her, duvet thrown back in spite of the chill, the pale silk of the negligee rising and falling with her anxious breathing. He always asked that they be clothed in white silk. Occasionally there was blood, and the red of blood against white silk made the experience more formal somehow, and it always felt like such an occasion should be formal.

As he became used to the gloom, he could see that she had been well-groomed for the occasion, fully made-up and hair freshly coifed, just as he had requested. It was a condition that wasn’t strictly necessary, but made the whole experience seem a little more ceremonial, a little more festive. After all, presentation was a key ingredient in every good restaurant, wasn’t it? Why should his situation be any different?

“Gabriella, you look exquisite tonight, my darling. I can’t tell you how much I’ve anticipated being with you, having you here in my bed.” He removed his jacket and hung it carefully over a cedar hanger on the back of the door. “Did I not promise you that the time would come when I would invite you into my own home, into my own bed?”

Of course it wasn’t his own bed. He never took them to his bed. He had several other rooms in several other places where he took from them what he needed, though this one was special. This one was for feasting. He carefully undressed by the side of the bed where she would be able to admire his every move. She moaned softly and writhed, not taking her eyes off him, needing him almost as much as he needed her. Almost.

At his leisure, he took in the curves that were still luscious enough to be tempting—the rise of nipples, the dilation of pupils, the rhythmic shifting of hips, all of which he could now make out. Ripe fruit, he thought. She was ripe fruit. The experience was always most ecstatic, always most satisfying, when his chosen had not yet passed her peak, when he had not used her so much that her looks had suffered, nor her hunger for him weakened. He needed her hunger as much as he needed her beauty. The two always went hand in hand. He needed her hunger to be her driving force, driving her to him over and over again, until all strength was gone. Most often he controlled his hunger, careful not to allow himself more than what was necessary to survive and thrive.

Tonight, however, he was drained and starving from effort and exhaustion, but from excitement as well, from the knowing that Samantha Black was capable of so much more than even he had anticipated. Tonight he would take deeply from the ripest fruit, take as though it were the first and the last fullness of summer, and Gabriella was just at that point of fullness.

“I’m going to make love to you, darling.” He didn’t even try to disguise his hunger. Anxious anticipation was as much a part of the ritual as savoring the moment, and he wanted her to know how much he hungered for her, how much he needed her. “I’m going to make you come as you have never come before, my sweetheart.” He slid onto the bed next to her, his left hand stroking her soft, dark hair, his right cupping himself, making himself ready. “Would you like that, Gabriella? I know you would, I know how impatient you’ve been.”

There was a soft whimper, and the woman shifted her hips and threw back her head with a little gasp as he slid a thumb across her heavy bottom lip. He was hard, always hard when he hungered. It was a part of the ritual, a part of the consuming, a part of fulfilling his need.

Carefully he slipped down the straps of the negligee so that he could admire the fullness of her breasts. Yes, presentation was so important — ripe cherry nipples against silken white fabric, so succulent, so ready. Her skin was the color of expensive mocha, and for a moment, he took in the feast for the eyes waiting for him. Then he cupped her sex, and she arched up, her eyelids fluttering beneath lush, dark lashes so perfectly made up, so perfectly prepared to meet her lover.

La petite mort,” he said. “It’s what we all long for, isn’t it, my sweetheart, over and over and over again, we long for it. It’s what we dream about in the darkest hours of the night. It’s what we wake up longing for, goose fleshed, slick and heavy with need from those elusive dreams of perfect love, perfect union, perfect dissolving of the self into the other. Oh, my beauty,” he slid a hand between her thighs, and her tongue flicked over her lip in concentration, in anticipation, “I’ve kept you waiting too long. I do apologize. La petite mort is a small gift for a long wait. So tonight, my dearest girl, I shall give you something far grander than the little death. And our joining, our perfect dissolving into one another, will be beyond anything you could ever imagine.”

He positioned himself above her and she opened to him, rising up to meet him in gasps and groans and whimpers that neared desperation. Oh yes, he would give her so much more than la petite mort, and then, in the instant when her body dissolved in pleasure, he would take it all back, all of it and so much more.

There was breath and then there was blood, and there was the life force coursing through the beautiful Gabriella. That life force entered his body through sex, through making love. And truly he did make love, for the gift that the lovely creature writhing beneath him, no longer strong enough to keep her legs grasped around his waist, was giving him was worthy of lovemaking. The taking of the life force in such a way was sex raised above and beyond ecstasy. He seldom partook to the end. He usually made it last for months, sometimes even years, depending on how powerful the life force was.

But Gabriella had no particular power, nothing but her exquisite beauty to linger on. He saw such as her as fast food, really, a needed energy boost in desperate times, and this was one of those times. Her sacrifice would ensure that he was focused and ready for whatever obstacles Graves could throw in his way where Samantha Black was concerned, because he would have her. He had to have her.

The woman beneath him shuddered with release, and he took her mouth more fully, swallowing back the harshness of her breath to blend with his own, teasing him to join in her ecstasy. She would climax over and over, and that would be her final memory. She would come to her death in rapturous pleasure, and she would not even feel that moment when all of her breath, all of her life force, all of her power, passed to him, and the darkness took her.

Her eyelids fluttered again and again, for now she truly had not the energy left for more than the flutter of eyelids above huge, dark eyes. Even the quiver low in her loins had transferred itself to him, and he felt her orgasms as though they were his own, as though through the breath, through the coupling, he had become her and she him. He had taken her into himself as she had him into her, so open, so inviting, so willing.

“You see,” he whispered against the seashell hollow of her unhearing ear, “I have given you so much more than la petite mort, just as I promised, darling. So much more for both of us.”

*****

Author Bio:

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, K D Grace believes Freud was right. It really IS all about sex—sex and love—and that is an absolute writer’s playground.

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. Her creativity is directly proportional to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology, which inspires many of her stories. She enjoys time in the gym, where she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. Her first love is writing, but she loves reading and watching birds. She adores anything that gets her outdoors.

K D’s novels and other works are published by Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Accent Press, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, and others. She also writes romance under the name Grace Marshall.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/kdnewsletter

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 
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