Fighting for Control Update

I'm so excited to announce I'm in edits for Fighting for Control and may have a release date to announce soon! In the meantime, here's a sample to whet your appetitite:

The golden god—Brad, she was certain—moved behind her and she twisted to see what he was doing. He stood at the table with the toys on it, but she couldn’t turn far enough to tell what he was up to. She heard him shift something around, and then he approached, standing so close she felt his breath on her shoulders.

“You want to learn if someone can fill your needs without being asked, right?” he said.

“Yes, Master C.”

“Be free to enjoy an evening without planning it all yourself?”

“Yes Master.” He was describing her wants practically word for word from her list. Hearing him speak them aloud made her understand submission as Mistress Marla described it. Lori wasn’t bending to someone else’s desires, she was looking for someone who matched her needs. Finding the man who wanted what she was willing to give, and who was willing to give in return.

“Tonight is not about taking orders, being told what to do. It’s about not giving orders. Do you understand the difference?” Marc, Master Q, asked.

“Yes Sir.”

“Tell me the difference.”

“I’m not going to tell you what I want you to do. I’m going to trust that I’ll be satisfied by what you decide to do.”

“Very good.”

Something as soft as a whisper brushed across her shoulders and she gasped. What a sensation, like butterfly kisses flitting across her skin. Master C swept the tool back and forth on her upper back. His gravelly voice heated her insides. “Pleasure comes in many ways. The entire body is a sex organ if you let it be. Close your eyes and focus on the feeling of the feather.”

She did. The feather stroked down her shoulder and up her raised arm, and returned to repeat the trip on the other arm. A wake of gooseflesh flowed outward from the touch. He circled her, moving to her chest—first the flat upper part, then skirting the slopes pushed up by the bustier. Her nipples tightened as her areolas wrinkled, the rest of her breasts swelling. The leather top grew uncomfortable as she filled the cups completely. Automatically she tugged her right arm to reach for the zipper, wanting to feel the feather on the rest of her breasts.

Realization that she wanted to bare her breasts to Brad made her freeze. She tried to put him out of her mind and focus again on the feather.

“Stop fighting it. That won’t get you anywhere. Relax and let us work. For now, just feel. Do you like it?”

“Yes Sir.” She wasn’t sure who spoke, since she still had her eyes closed. It sounded more like Marc's buttery-smooth tones. Both men orbited continuously around her. She heard their shoes squeak on the floor, became aware of their shifting energy, but only one continued to touch her, if only through the feather.

That changed when the constraint of her bustier released as the zipper lowered. Sucking in her stomach, she straightened. The need building in her from the feather on her chest evaporated at the thought of being seen by both men. She licked her lips to keep from speaking.

The bustier fell away and the men’s breathing audibly altered. The shorter, faster breaths made her feel sexy. They liked what they saw. Could she open her eyes yet? She needed to see their reactions.

Braving punishment, she blinked. Neither man was in front of her. She bit her lower lip. So much for her ego. No one was looking at her breasts. She twisted again to see what they were doing.

“Pleasure can be reached by many routes,” said Brad as he walked around and stood in front of her.

***

In the true spirit of torture, I mean, anticipation, I leave you here and get back to my edits. Enjoy!