They call him Masque.
I call him God.
The man I want to consume me, own me,
break me and corrupt me.
Yet I’ve never seen his face.
His body ripples like an Adonis, sculpted in steel and
dripping in sin. His flesh is inked with the mark of the
chimera – one body, two very different halves.
He plays hard.
He plays rough.
He has no limits.
He’s so fucking dirty bad wrong.
But I love him for it.
Lydia Marsh is always the strong one. The girl who never breaks, and sure as hell never cries. She’s got it all – the perfect little life in cozy suburbia, with her perfectly nice boyfriend, and their perfectly sufficient sex life. She’s even got her perfect little career plan all wrapped up at Trial Run Software Group.
But when it all falls apart, and Lydia’s pretty, green eyes are fixed on a brutally sexual stranger – the man they call Masque – she comes to suspect that being strong isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
For now Lydia wants something she’s never wanted before…
And she wants Masque to give it to her.
**Warning – this novel contains graphic sex, and hardcore elements of BDSM.
There are scenes of violence (consensual) as well as sexual practices some readers may find offensive.
If you aren’t turned on by dirty bad wrong sex then please walk on by. Thank you.***
Cara spread her legs like a good girl, pressed tight against the flogging bench with her perky little ass in the air. Just how I wanted her. I knelt down behind, spreading her wide enough to trace my tongue around the tight little ring of her asshole. She squirmed like an eel, and I slapped her ass. Hard. The smack of my palm cut loud across the room.
“I said, don’t move.”
She stopped squirming. “Sorry, sir.”
I savoured my position a moment longer, her glistening pussy just an inch from my nose. I breathed deeply, letting my warm breath tease her. She tensed, but checked herself, keeping still enough to prevent further punishment.
God, I needed this. I needed the heady scent of sex, the musky taste of her against my tongue. I needed to feel her jerk and scream as she came, and even then still beg for more. More tongue, and more pain. I’d give her more of both. Gladly.
I buried my tongue, lapping at her slit and teasing a path through the folds to her clit. She tasted so fucking good. She moaned, but didn’t move a muscle, not even when I clamped my mouth tight onto her, taking her sweet little nub between my lips. Her scent hammered my senses, and my dick twitched in my jeans. Fuck yeah.
“What do you want, Cara?”
Her answer came within a second. “Your mouth, sir. Please.”
“You will remain quiet and still.”
“If you move or make a sound, I will spank you, hard, understand?”
I saw her pussy clench. Horny little bitch.
“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
“Good girl.” I spread her open, stretching her lips wide apart like a pretty pink butterfly. So fucking pretty. I heard her breath quicken, and almost willed her to moan, just so I could punish her. “You have a perfect little cunt, Cara.”
I imagined her eyes screwed shut under her blindfold, all her concentration focused on obeying. I wasn’t going to make it easy.
I fixed my mouth onto her, sucking her in. She was already swollen with lust, ripe for my touch. I swirled my tongue, gently, my arms wrapped around her thighs to hold her tight to me. Every muscle in her legs was tense, straining for composure. I gripped her flesh in my teeth as I pulled away, savage enough to make her breath hitch. Make a sound, you filthy bitch, make a fucking sound. She kept quiet.
I plunged two fingers inside her and she exhaled everything she had. I curled them forward, finding just the right spot. The cuffs on her wrists jangled as I worked her from the inside, but I let her off this once. My thumb balled her clit, pinning her pleasure from both the inside and out. Her cunt made gorgeous wet slurps, slick and swollen from everything she was taking from me. I closed my eyes to savour the sensation.
“I’m going to stretch you open, Cara. You do want more, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes please, sir.” Her voice was raspy. I slid in a third finger, and her legs trembled. She tightened beautifully, her greedy little slit sucking at my fingers. I worked her into a rhythm, strong steady movements all the way inside her, echoed by my thumb around her clit. “Please, sir, may I cum?”
“No.” Her legs shuddered again, another clink of her cuffs. “Don’t make me punish you, Cara.” She was trying so hard, but the sadist in me couldn’t resist. I increased the pressure, coaxing the nerves inside. They betrayed her, and she bucked against my hand, wheezing out a string of incomprehensible mewls. I pulled away instantly and her knees almost buckled. “I said, no.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”
I got to my feet, kneading the soft skin of her buttocks in rough hands. “I’m going to punish you now, Cara. You need to be punished now, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
I trailed my fingers up the soft pale groove of her spine, enjoying the way her muscles twitched at my touch. “If you’re a really good girl, I’ll make you cum after.”
She groaned and arched her back, jutting her ass out towards me. She’s so fucking good.
I didn’t go easy on her. My blows were hard, and fast. Slap after slap across her perfect white flesh. Her ass juddered under the abuse, and soon the sound of her whimpers came loud. Her ass bloomed pink under my hands, rosy and gorgeous, ripening to a deep, dark flush. I coloured her thighs too for good measure, and she let out a squeal as I landed one right on her pussy.
She lay flat to the bench, breathing heavy while I gave her a moment.
“Your skin is so pretty, Cara.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I ran my fingernails down her thighs and she gasped, shifting her legs apart like a wanton whore. “What do you want, Cara?”
“I want to cum. Please make me cum, sir.”
Without warning I grabbed hold of her hair, yanking her head back. “You don’t deserve it, yet.”
I kept hold while I slapped her again, watching the tension in her shoulders as I inflicted her punishment. I observed every twitch, every flinch and every tiny moan, watching her careening to the edge of her tolerance, a slow burning arch of pain. It made my dick throb. I finished up as she made a particularly loud whimper. Perfect timing. I watched the rise and fall of her back as she caught her breath.
“How do you feel, Cara?”
“Amazing, thank you, sir.”
She wasn’t lying. Her face was flushed bright and her thighs were slippery wet, but more telling was the smile that spread slowly across her lips. Endorphins kicking in, no doubt. She was flying high.
I slid my fingers all the way back inside her, saving my thumb for her asshole. She groaned as I forced it in, and bucked back against me with jerky motions. I allowed her movement this time, back and forward against my intrusion as her chains rattled. My free hand curled around her thigh, circling gently around her sopping wet clit, and with steady fingers I brought her to her peak. I pressed my whole weight against her as she exploded, pinning her to the bench. The restriction sent her wild, and she shuddered against me, squealing like a cat. I didn’t stop until she was all done, withdrawing my fingers with a delicious squelch. I touched them to her lips and she licked them clean.
“Good girl, Cara.”
Jade West is a contemporary erotic author from Warwick in the UK, due to release her debut BDSM novel, Dirty Bad Wrong, in February 2015. Jade is a real life
submissive, and former sex chat-line operator, who is plenty used to getting people all steamed up with her dirty mouth. She has a healthy interest in pornography,
men in suits and taking 100 strokes with a cane ‘Mood Pictures’ style.