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"The worst memory was when I was still in a coma and I could feel people hold my hand. I could feel the nurses bathing me, but I couldn’t move or open my eyes. I just couldn’t do anything and it was terrifying!"
Xavier Prince wakes in a hospital bed on a Caribbean island. He has no idea how he got there, or in fact who the hell he is. When his Doctor informs him that he is quite the celebrity, he is determined to uncover his past.
Having only brief recollections, his search is aided by the appearance of a Nordic beauty called Freya. Along with her brother, Lars, they ignite something in his subconscious and he begins his path of self-discovery.
A club, bizarre sexual activities and demonstrations. A world far removed from his rather quiet and sedentary childhood. The death of his father, and the benefit of a healthy inheritance, launch him into the world of business.
The alien world of BDSM was a business venture and was something he never saw coming. He takes the opportunity with both hands. With the guidance of his mentor, Anton, he quickly rises to become one of the most popular Doms on the UK scene.
Clearing his mind of all pre-conceptions, he embraces this new lifestyle. Yet love, jealousy and betrayal stalk his clouded past. Perhaps they are the reason for his current situation? Will peeling away the layers of time uncover who on earth is Xavier Prince?
Book Title – Coma Author – Zak Hardacre Genre – Dark Erotic Romance
Xavier Prince wakes in a Caribbean hospital bed. He has no idea how he got there, or in fact his name. When he is told by
a doctor that he is quite the celebrity he begins a journey to find out, “Who the hell is Xavier Prince?” This story of love, submission, ambition and betrayal is a twist on the classic “Whodunit” To find out how it ends, order it
I approach her until the stiffness of my cock makes contact with her buttocks. I hold myself there a moment, delighting in the sensation that ripples through my groin. Freya forces herself back against me, eager to feel my swollen meat against her clit. I lean over her bent body and ensure the blindfold is still tight around her head. Her hands still take her weight against the wall. With her back horizontal and arse thrust out, she is in the perfect position for me to administer the flogging.
“Now precious…you need to stay real still. Did the leather not feel good on your body? Did you not feel the fire? You need this, my pet, the hot burning of the leather on your skin. I will teach you to love the taste of this fire.” I move my lips so that they are only inches away from her ear and whisper the words.
I begin to breathe deeply in anticipation for what is to come. I draw the handle against her clit and pull it back, so that it is coated with her juices. Then I step back and makes sure my grip is firm. I give her a playful tap against her right arse cheek. It causes her to jump as the leather tails are fanned across the roundness of her buttock, jarring her mind back slightly, she stills, listening. A soft whisper as I slap the flogger lightly across her arse again. Her arse quivers under its touch, and I feel myself stiffen at the sight.
I draw the flogger away and taking a half a step further away, measure the distance. The distance is good. It swishes through the air, splaying the leather strips across her ass slightly harder, causing her to gasp. I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind me, and turn to see Cindy licking her lips. Anton smiles and nods. It is the first time that I had been alerted to the fact that they were still standing there. I return my attention to Freya.
Her body has stiffened getting accustomed to the stinging needles of pain, as the heat mingles with her own rolling and viciously caged fire. I reach forward and rub her clit, then strike her once more with the flogger. The falls wrap around her hips and inner thighs. They produce fresh welts on her milky white skin.
“Trust me, precious, let go of your fear and just experience this.” As I speak, I move the handle slowly between her thighs and run it along her hot, wet lips, letting the rawhide rub across her clit.
“Yes, Sir.” Her response is immediate and wanton.
The falls strike her fully across both cheeks. She gasps again, calling out loudly. As the stripes begin to sting, she drops her head against the mirror. The pain rages a war with the pleasure and passion she must be feeling. I watch and sense her body react to each stroke now. Each one more forceful than the last. Her mind must be searching, needing to understand how she can feel such excitement as the pain increases.
“Are you ready to cum?” I cease the flogging and insert my hand over her mound, teasing her clit with my thumb.
“Yes, I’m ready, Sir”. Her reply is a panted whisper.
Pumping my fingers slowly, deep inside her pussy keeping her right on the edge, her moans are building softly and urgently. I strike her ass twice in quick succession and she convulses. Her whole body is shaking as I bring her over the edge. Arousal begins to form together, edging along with the pain.
“You need to cum right now. So cum for me!” Whimpering and sobbing she nods and moans. Begging for Him to let her cum, let the orgasm he has been holding on edge all night, break free.
“Yes, Sir! Make me cum!”
“Then cum for me, my pet.” I growl the words, while stroking her g-spot and clit together.
In the corner of the room, in what looks to be a private booth, I see the unmistakable frame of Lars. His golden locks hang loosely over his shoulders, his beard is trimmed and not as wild as I once remember. He sits in-between two men who I would guess are in their late twenties or early thirties. Both have a business-like appearance to them. They are dressed in dark suits that would not look out of place on a Milan or Paris catwalk. The guy to his right looks friendly enough, but the one to the left gives me an uncomfortable feeling.
He notices my approach and I stare into those black, almost coal-like eyes. I can’t help but think - I've never seen such dark eyes with so much malevolence to them. They are soulless, almost lifeless, no hint of pity and a shiver runs through me. I gaze into them but they give away nothing, just an endless blackness.
“You’re here. Good to see you, my friend.” Lars jumps up from his reclined position and hugs me like a long lost son.
“It’s quite a place from what I have seen so far. Takes me back to Oxford.” I return Lars hug and then step back to look at him.
“I’ll give you the guided tour shortly, but take a seat and have a drink.” He makes space for me next to him and the rather dangerous looking fucker shuffles to his right, at the same time giving me a look of disdain.
“Clinton, will you bring us another bottle of champagne and a glass for my guest?” Lars gives his request to the bouncer and sits back in the plush, leather seating area.
“Let me do the introductions while we wait for the bubbly to arrive. This is Axel, one of my business partners.” Lars indicates the more amiable of the two men in black.
I reach over and take his hand in mine. They are dry, unlike my own, which are sweaty due to my nervousness and the humidity in the room. His eyes are warm, and he smiles at me, and I immediately get a good feeling about him. There is a confidence about him, but not a hint of arrogance. I squeeze his hand with the same pressure as he exerts. He is definitely not trying to dominate me, showing me who is boss.
“Pleased to meet you, Axel.” I release his hand and he grins at me.
“Welcome to our humble abode.” He jokes, gesturing with his hands in a flamboyant manner.
“This is my other partner, Anton.” I turn to face the rather stern looking fucker. I had avoided his gaze as I sat down. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I shook hands with Axel.
The dangerous looking fucker, gives me the once over. It is like a boxer eyeing up his opponent in the first round of a fight. He is looking for any sign of weakness. A cold-hearted stare that would make most men look away. Not this fucker, I stare him out, waiting for him to break eye contact. It does not happen.
“Thank fuck for that. Where did you go for it, France?” The arrival of the champagne cuts short my little duel with Anton.
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Crashed: Casper’s Ghost Now available in KU!
Wyatt Crown is exciting to watch, beautiful to imagine, and irresistible in the flesh. Every woman knows it. So seeing him in person, did I really think I'd fall for him? No, I didn't. Could I ever have imagined that there were darker, more devious pieces to his soul? Absolutely not.
Disguised as love, sex is my bedfellow of choice. Whether it's one woman or two, it doesn't matter. All that does is that I have the escape I need-that I crave. It helps me to cope with the darkness inside. It's the only thing that does, except for when I'm on the track. Then I met her.
This isn't your sweet, true love kind of story. This is dark, dirty, twisted, and chock full of partial hope for love to win out.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2Artaja Goodreads: goo.gl/WVv7Pu