(The Billionaire Banker Series – Book 4)
AN EROTIC ROMANCE
(18+ due to mature themes and sexual content)
Lana has chosen Billie and her friend Julie Sugar to be her bridesmaids and preparations are under way as the big day draws ever closer for the besotted couple. Billie loves Lana and would do anything for her, but Julie's feelings are more concealed as she hides a shocking secret from her friend.
Though Lana believes she has sidestepped Blake's treacherous ex to win her man, storm clouds are never far away where Victoria is concerned.
Will all go smoothly for the lovers on their big day?
Or is there unforeseen drama that may yet still spoil the couple's happily ever after
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‘What about BDSM? Are you going to teach me something about that?’
He looks at me over the rim of his glass. ‘Why? Are you interested in being a submissive?’
‘I don’t know. I could be. What is it?’
‘It’s a game.’
‘I like games. Start me off and I’ll tell you if I like it.’
He stops smiling, his eyes change, darken. Very deliberately he positions his hand right in front of him, tips his glass sideways and allows the liquid in it to pour onto the table. I watch the puddle grow on the table. At some point before the glass is empty he stops pouring. I lift my eyes from the spill and look at him. His eyes are expressionless, watchful. The silence stretches. I break it. ‘Well?’
‘Clean it up,’ he says.
‘I don’t need to repeat myself, do I? It is a punishable offence.’
For a moment I feel confused. Was this the thing that has everybody hot up the collar? Do I want to be his little slave? The answer is obvious and immediate. I don’t. Definitely not. But I’ll let it play a little more and see where this little game goes. I turn towards the paper towels.
‘Not with the paper towel.’ His voice cracks like a whip.
I turn towards him slowly. Our eyes clash, a look of impatience about his. What does he want me to do? Clean the table with my tongue? The thought is unsexy, off putting. ‘With what then?’
He leans back and folds his arms across his chest. ‘With your sex.’
And suddenly I am wet. The idea is shocking but incredibly, unbelievably erotic. I step out of my knickers and walk towards him. I pull myself onto the table and opening my legs slightly so he can see what I am doing slowly drag my sex across the spill. Something flashes in his eyes. When I have dragged myself across the liquid I stop and look to him.
He nods slowly. ‘You, he says, and there is a touch of admiration in his voice, ‘are an excellent pupil. You never do more than what you are instructed to do.’
I say nothing. Just hold myself in that position.
‘Now spread your legs,’ he orders.
The AWESOME Author
Georgia Le Carre
Georgia Le Carre lives in England, in an old 19th century romantic cottage surrounded by a magical garden filled with fruit and walnut trees.
When she is not feeding words into her laptop, she is either curled up in bed with a box of chocolates and a good read, or lost in a long walk in the woods. Especially on moonlit nights. And often with the man of her dreams.
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