Replay Book 3: HONOUR BOUND by Nia Farrell
Length 19,947 words / 97 5×8 pages
Release Date November 1, 2016
#FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!
Amazon e-book http://mybook.to/RB3
BLURB Replay owner Piers St. Leger isn’t looking for a sub. When psychologist Eleanor Benoit comes into his office, beautiful, curious, eager and willing to learn, suddenly all he can think of is what he can show her. What he can teach her. What they can do together. What they can be….
Intrigued by the psychology of BDSM, Elly has agreed to attend a scene at Replay as an observer, portraying the White Queen in Wonderland, with Sir Piers as the White King. Incredibly handsome, dangerously charismatic, he understands that she has triggers and still manages to tempt her to do more. By the evening’s end, it’s clear that one night won’t be enough, for either of them.
Listen to an audio teaser, narrated by La Petite Mort: http://bit.ly/2j2zGqW
For a moment, Elly imagined lying naked in Piers St. Leger’s arms, still in a state of bliss after a session of kinky play.
The Dom Heathcliff angled his dark head, his blue steel gaze assessing. With his dimpled chin, he looked like Timothy Dalton’s love child. “You stated that you do yoga,” he said, the deep rumbling baritone resonating in her core, traveling down to converge upon a single, needy point. “I have seen devotees who practice advanced meditation achieve subspace very quickly, even though they are new to BDSM.”
The timbre of his voice birthed a flash of kinky fantasy. She envisioned Sir Piers with a soft, suede flogger, administering lashes that raised her to the point of ecstasy and rendered her nearly unconscious, releasing her bonds and holding her against him, ear pressed against the carved width of his chest, soothed by his heartbeat, safe in the circle of his arms.
The thought made her mouth dry and her panties even wetter.
The Dom behind the desk inhaled slowly, deeply, as if he could smell her arousal.
She crossed her legs and told what was between them to behave. She was here to watch, to take notes, she reminded herself. Purely clinical. When she saw those chiseled lips start to slide into a knowing smile, she knew it was time to make things perfectly clear.
She squared her shoulders and leveled her gaze at him. “Mr. St. Leger,” she said crisply, noting his displeasure when she failed to address him as Sir. “I confess, my past partners – with the exception of one – were about as vanilla as they get. But I am also a psychologist. I’m not coming to Replay to – ”
Thankfully, she caught the get corrupted before it tumbled off her tongue.
“To immerse myself in the lifestyle and personally experience whatever it is that you do here. I am coming, at a friend’s request, to support her. But while I am here, I plan to observe. The better I understand the benefits and pitfalls of BDSM, the more I can help clients who are interested in the lifestyle. Believe me when I say that, despite the White Queen costume, I’ll be studying the scene as intently as if I were wearing a lab coat.”
The look that he gave her made goose flesh cascade down her arms and alarm bells sound in her head.
“Vanilla.” He tasted the word but refused to swallow it. Why would he, when there were so many other flavors that he could choose from?
Elly felt as if she’d been judged and found wanting. Oddly enough, that stung more deeply than it should.
“Should you ever wish to expand your horizons…” He tapped the contract. “We have several Dominants here who train submissives – collared, claimed, and unclaimed. Compatibility, trust, mutual goals…there are any number of factors used to determine the best pairing, one that will protect and nurture a submissive’s growth. As a bottom, you may view this document as… ephemeral, but I can assure you, I shall view it no differently than if you had come to me for training. What we do here, I take very seriously. Very seriously, indeed.”
“As am I, Sir,” she insisted. “It’s just…it’s one night.”
“Yes. One night. And how many research projects have you completed in that time, hmm?” His lips angled in a knowing half smile, like the great and powerful man behind the curtain enlightening the girl who’d landed in a strange and foreign place. “If you wish to observe and ask questions, to learn and begin to understand…well, it will very likely take more than an evening in Wonderland. In fact, I can almost guarantee that you’ll be left wanting.”
In more ways than one, she suspected. If Piers St. Leger seated at a desk was enough to make her wet, how the hell was she going to survive an evening by his side, watching God knows what and depending on him to dissect it all in a play-by-play that might have her praying for overtime?
It wasn’t often that Elly was wrong, but she’d misjudged Piers St. Leger. He might not like the idea of vanilla her, but there was no mistaking that he wanted a taste of it. She knew it the minute that she signed the contract, leaning on his desk, close enough to smell him. Clean male and subtle musk, with a nuance of patchouli on his clothes and wintergreen mint on his breath. She’d initialed all the pages, adding her signature to the last. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she’d risked a glance up at him and was stunned by the sudden heat that flared in his eyes – eyes that seemed alive with possibilities.
“Sir Josef will take you to your wardrobe appointment,” he said, keeping his gaze on her, a dark promise in his eyes, in his voice, that made her shiver. “I shall see you soon, princess.”