Grand Slam (Raw Talent #1) by Lily Harlem & Lucy Felthouse

Author:Lily Harlem & Lucy Felthouse [Harlem, Lily & Felthouse, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-06-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“The bedroom’s that way,” Travis said, then practically shoved me into a stunningly big room with a large chocolate-brown leather bed and dark built-in furniture.

Was I dreaming? Floating? Had I taken something illegal that was giving me the mother of all highs? I wasn’t sure of the answer, but my God it felt good. My senses were alive, my heart pounding; every breath seemed to course through my body, delivering oxygen, yes, but also neat lust to each cell of my being.

Travis strode over to the window, drew the heavy black curtains then turned to me, hands on his hips, his feet apart and his eyebrows drawn down low and determined.

I gulped. It was an expression I’d seen on him a couple of times before. I never thought I’d see it directed at me, though. In the past I’d always seen Travis Connolly glare like that just before he won a match point at a major tournament. It was his “I’m going to get exactly what I want and there’s nothing you can do to stop me” stare.

A quiver of nerves attacked my belly, sending goose bumps skittering over my skin. They all seemed to congregate on my arse, and again I was reminded of the smarting and the sting of my dress rubbing against the sore flesh.

“Turn around,” he said, reaching for the top button of his shirt. “Now.”

I did as he asked and set my focus on a stack of black silk pillows on his bed.

“Take your shoes off.”

I slipped out of my sandals, kicked them to one side. The carpet was soft on the soles of my feet and I felt even smaller than I had before.

“And your dress.”

I reached for a zip at the side.

“Did you hear what I said?” he snapped.

“Yes.”

“Yes, Sir, Marie. You answer me ‘yes, Sir’ when I tell you to do something.”

“Yes… Sir.” My voice quavered a little in my throat. Excitement certainly, but also apprehension. By saying Sir I’d acknowledged that he was in total control, in charge. I’d handed over trust to Travis and would allow him to nurture my pleasure in whatever way he saw fit.

“That’s better. Don’t forget it again.”

There was a rustle of clothing and I wondered how far he’d got with getting naked. It was tempting to turn around but I’d learned enough to know that would no doubt earn me another punishment.

Instead I quickly shimmied out of my dress, letting it fall over my hips and gather around my feet. I kicked it sideways so it piled on top of my shoes in a forgotten heap.

Clenching my hands at my sides, I stared down at myself. I’d worn no bra—the dress had an integral one—and my breasts jutted forward, nipples rosy pink and erect. The small black triangle of my G-string covered the juncture of my thighs and my pale-pink toenails looked startling against the darkly carpeted floor.

Suddenly he was behind me, on his knees, holding my hips and touching his lips to the small of my back.

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