Sunday, October 19, 2014

Spotlight: Domming the Heiress by Talon P.S. & Princess S.O.

Domming the Heiress
Dominion of Brothers Series: Book 1.5
Written by Talon p.s.  &  Princess S.O.

MF / BDSM – D/s / Erotic Romance

You can’t depend on your eyes, when your desire is out of focus.
Heiress Amelia Quinneth had always been known for topping from the bottom. Being Vice-President of the family fortune and firm makes letting go of control more than just complicated. Nevertheless, submission is the one thing she desires most at the end of the day and no amount of control over her life can get her to that unobtainable bliss. That is until frustrated by lack of satisfaction; she finally reached out to Dominus Trenton Leos to be paired up with a Dom that could take charge and satisfy her needs.
However despite her request, she never expected she would have to meet her new Dom, while remaining blindfolded for the next thirty-six hours with him.
Amelia’s Dom turns out to be a Head-Master who quickly shows her who is in charge and strips away every layer of hers, one by one, until she found the true euphoria that comes from understanding her surrender.
Her very walls that she kept to define her fantasies have been torn down, but in order to find out who her new Master is, there is one more wall she must let go of and she's not sure she can.

~Chronological Order of titles available now~
Book 1: Becoming His Slave
Book 1.5: Domming the Heiress
Book 2: A Place for Cliff
Book 3: Rough Attraction

Amelia arched into him. She loved receiving affection on her breasts and yet it seemed she never got quite enough. It was always over too soon or just not the right touch. But this? This was making her head swoon, his mouth so perfectly pampering her needs that must have caused her to sway as she felt the firm press of his free hand on her back top steady her.
She stifled the whimper when it stopped. Her Master’s lips gone as well as his hands. Only they soon returned, hovering around her hard tips. Amelia arched her back, opening herself for the return of his lavishing attention. She wanted to feel his tongue lick over them, like savoring a favorite delicacy—
The image shattered quite suddenly feeling something very much different than the anticipated mouth. First, just a tight pressure to both nipples, but the pressure quickly bit down like little teeth.
Amelia tried not to cry out. She wasn’t prepared to get clamped. She’d never allowed a Dom to put them on her before, but she knew it could be nothing else. Her breasts ignited with the first experience of fire, warm then hot, and they shot out a powerful pulse like little super novas.
She felt herself drifting away from him as if doing so would make the clamps disappear, but a strong arm slipped around her waist to prevent the retreat, and she couldn’t hold back the tearful moan any longer.
Shhh— easy— the first minute or two is the hardest. Remember, you earned the punishment.” His voice formidable and strict, yet soothing and then she felt his tongue tease over her throbbing abused nipple. One, then the other, moving back and forth between the two as if the very touch of his tongue could put out the fire caused by the clamps.
“Oh god, take them off please.”
Shhh— you want this— you can’t see them, but your nipples look magnificent in clamps. Small succulent buttons of red candy begging to be plucked by me.”

 Amelia’s whole body shuddered with pain that shot out from her freed yet tortured nipples and then instantly being licked over by not one, but two mouths. Each so very different from each other. One small and soft as a dainty tongue circled around her engorged tip. The other, larger mouth, devoured her with rough suckling and teeth. She tried to remain still, but it was impossible and then she felt the first set of switches to the inside of her thighs. Small stinging snaps across her skin licking them to open further. She struggled to spread her thighs wider, then wider again when the second set came, one thigh then the next. Back and forth, tiny snaps of leather flicked against her skin with a pink sting. Then they stopped and the leather wrapped rod was used to strum over her labia, sliding between the accessible slit in the panties her Master dressed her in and slid against her wet folds before delivering a whipped strike on her clit. It throbbed awake as if it had never been woken from a lifelong slumber.
“Please, Head-Master.” She pleaded.
“Why, dear pet, you are pleasing me.”
She chewed on her lips and groaned when the next set came and when it ended she felt two hands one large and rough, the other soft and dainty slide down her belly, snaking through her pubic hairs then together they dove into her cunt, twirling and pumping together inside her. She felt it instantly, her walls clamping down on the two intruders. “Oh god, Master, I can’t—”
“Stop now.” The command came quickly and the hands that probed her honey slicked walls stopped instantly and retreated. “You are not to cum until I tell you to, pet. You weren’t going to cum were you?”
“No, of course not.” Amelia gulped. Her own pleas stopped when the fingers had retreated. But it wasn’t an orgasm she couldn’t hold back, rather it was one that clutched at her painfully and frightened her. A ball of energy floating just over the cuspate of release and yet so far away she could never reach it. It hovered painfully behind her clit and she clamped down every muscle inside her, wishing she could do just that, but knew it had been just the opposite for her. The very reward always denied her, and it had come so close. She would lie and cheat if to only snatch it and run. Even if it meant to disobey her Master’s pleasure. Though she knew it would never happen.
“Good, because I want to be sure to feel every inch of you shiver when you do.”
She felt the knee press into the ottoman next to her hips, felt it sinking her own as the weight of her Master eased down over her. Like lightning, two fingers thrust deep inside her until his knuckles bottomed out against her hooded jewel. “Now, my pet. Cum for me, now.” He whispered just above her.
His fingers scooped and danced inside her, and she pleaded with her body to obey his command. The small white ball of ecstasy just out of reach of his fingertips. The needy pain ripped through her. Oh god she wanted to, but could not. Her body convulsed, straining to catch it, lifting her hips off the cushion, forcing her body over his fingers further.
“That’s it, let me feel you come right to the very edge.” His voice grew husky as she rocked her cunt over his fingers, pumping to trigger every last ounce and quiver from her before sliding out. The squeal of torment broke free from her as his hand slipped away. The stalled tactic made her feel like she was free falling from high above. Yet her body still owned every bit of the tension that had been there at the start.
Moist fingers traced her mouth and she tasted the hint of her own pooled moisture as he pushed his fingers past her lips, urging her to open, and receive the gift. The scent of her own silk filled her nostrils, painted over her tongue with the brush strokes of his fingers. The pain ebbing but never vanishing as her body failed him.
She moved all her thoughts to her tongue, to the fingers offered her, and she sucked on them in a display of her eager tongue’s talents. It pleased him, she knew, as he moaned with delight and quite suddenly his fingers were replaced with his mouth, licking to steal the taste of her juices he’d just brushed over her lips. She loved every bit of it. If only it could have been more, but she wasn’t about to disappoint him with her failure.
“That was very nice, my pet.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “However, next time I expect you to actually cum when I tell you.”
He knew.

 Rashawn’s eyes shifted to her, pinning her in place, everything seemed to slip away and she fell into the dark pools of his eyes, “She does exist.” He spoke the words softly and directly at her.
Amelia didn’t say a word. She felt dizzy, and frightened. Because she was that kind of woman.
The two men continuing in the debate of her existence as if being heard from under water. It became hard to breathe. To come face to face with a man who desired what she had wept and cried from because she wanted to let go of everything, just for a moment, an hour, a day, a second, just please take it away, and hold her, kiss her forehead— croon dirty words to her, and make her cum until she cried for other reasons. Why of all the men she could hear it come from was it spoken from a man so much younger than her? Life was so cruel.
“And how will you find such a woman?” Cardiff asked his son, never even noticing the panic she feared was lit in her eyes.
“I will know her by the beauty I could only dream of and within her fire which ignites an uncontrollable urge of desire I cannot live without.”
“And if you do not find such a woman? What becomes of you then?”
“It’s not finding that one a Dominant should be afraid of, its finding her and not being able to touch her because she isn’t ready. There is no greater torment for him.”

 “You know, I still find it hard to believe Dane never took a paddle to your behind when he discovered what you’d done to that desk.” He commented to her as she opened up the antique desk to fetch another drink for him.
She shot a fond smile over her shoulder at him, then closed the curled door of wood and brought the drink over. She returned to her knees first then passed the clear liquid up, “Once I explained, he understood.”
“No. It should have been restored and kept as a desk.”
“No, Sir, it could not have been.” Amelia broke out with a playful laugh that sounded good to hear. “My brother left a cigar in it, still lit. By the time it was discovered, it had been completely heat scorched to ash. Besides the bar is only an insert made to fit within the original desk, but isn’t attached.”
“That’s probably what saved your ass.” He chuckled, then sipped at the tequila.
“I wouldn’t have minded if it didn’t. But it’s funny, until that time he discovered the desk, I never knew he was such a connoisseur of antiquity.”
“Yeah, you’d never know the dark side of Dane was hiding under all that contemporary and old world mix of fashions.”
“I just think it makes him all the more beautifully naughty.”
Amelia smiled but it faded quickly.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking, out of the five of you, I understand Dane the most. I relate to him somehow.” She glanced away as if the rest of her words were written somewhere across the room on the volume of books that filled the book units that lined wall to either side of the hearth. “We both have inner desires that are so completely different to the person we display to the rest of the world.” She turned to look at him again, a tear trapped in her eyes, “Do people like us ever get to be happy?”
It was doubt that asked. A desperation to be so certain of one’s personal desires and still be so uncertain about everything else.
He raised his hand and pointed out the window to the tall man walking across the lawn in the distance, yet his arm around the shoulders of a woman half his height could be distinctly made out. “Look at them. If that isn’t love, I don’t care. I want what they have because I have never seen any bond more powerful and loyal to each other as theirs.” He reached down and took her hand then guided her to come sit in his lap a moment. He cradled her emotional wounds in his thick muscular arms while he watched his brother and his Unicorn heading for the beach. “We all get our doubts from time to time, but they’re living proof it happens. What you see in them right now isn’t faked. You and I watched it take place. And some of what happened was painful for them. Love is a struggle. It’s those rough surfaces that make bonding possible. You just have to stop settling for second best and hold out for the one person imperfectly made for you. And when you find that someone who makes you feel like you’re on top of the world and your chest hurts so damn much it feels like it’s about to burst, then you’ll know you found the right one and don’t let anything— and I mean, let nothing get in the way of having that right one for yourself.
“How will I know for certain?”
“It will be the one thing that sounds the craziest. Everything you ever experienced didn’t work because it’s the one you didn’t do that was the one meant to work.”

“Did you have fun last night?” She accused him.
Rashawn spun around, taking her arms in his grip, “Don’t do this to yourself, Amelia. I would never have done such a thing to you. Nothing I had with you last night was anything but complete respect, admiration, and desire. I went to the interview as you asked, I talked only about when I first started working with Quinneth Global in Paris under your father and the overseas plants in the face of surviving the onslaught of war.”
“They didn’t ask you questions about your lifestyle?”
Rashawn felt the harsh twitch in her arms. She wanted to trust him, but she also felt pinned. He dropped his hands, not wanting her to feel forced to stand before him. “They did.” He nodded, “I didn’t answer them. I made it clear I wasn’t available for a personal interview. I told you before, I like my privacy. This did not change.”
“Perhaps you weren’t clear on that. They even went as far as to mention your father and his lascivious libertine lifestyle, and I quote: So look out ladies, the young Matisse bachelor may not have fallen far from the tree and turn out to be a kinky catch.”
Crashing wreckage that weighed in tons fell on his shoulders, shoving him into the ground like a pile driver, obliterating everything he had dreamed and hoped for. Everything he’d worked hard to get and gain, the only remaining thing he wanted the most in his life was standing before him slamming the doors of opportunity shut. The ache was unbearable. “S’il te plaît. I swear I didn’t do this to you.”
The glare seemed to dissipate, waning away with a dying moon taking with it not only the anger but the blush she’d worn for him, and only him, with it.

She crossed her arms over her chest, wearing them like a suit of armor as she sucked in a deep breath and let it flare out with a frustrated sign. And Rashawn steeled himself for the worst blow to come.


Talon lives in Tarpon Springs Florida with his twin sister and niece; where it is anything but cold at least 10 and a half months out of the year nor is he suffering any of those triple digits the rest of you have been this summer... but the best remedy for that is more heat and that can be found in his books.

He testimony to being a true writer is revealed in the three cats sitting on his desk that are just downright fed up with being ignored... so much so that some nights they're either parking themselves right on his hands or on the keyboard... they've learned it's about the only way to get him to stop and pet them.

Talon works in the concert industry with staging and production and is an avid collector of several medias of erotica. Including erotic photography and vintage prints to go along with his immense library of Erotica and Dark Fantasy books.

You can easily find him peaCOCKing about on facebook regularly and working with a team of young inspiring writers. His motto, everybody has the right to peaCOCK, he'll even invite you to take a spot on his fence. Suffering from severe dyslexia {that seems to only bother his editors and readers}, and typing fingers that can't keep up with his brain, he gladly invites anyone to try and fail, try harder and fail better. It's the trying that counts and each try is an accomplishment.

Writing has always been an affair, creating Fictions of Dark Fantasy and Film Scripts in the Action/Drama and a few Sci-Fi's. It wasn't until he got involved in his twin's ancient history tale that the works turned to the Erotic Genre, and has been hooked ever since. Thirty-six books in total have been started, many of which are nearing ready for release.

So be sure to have your reading glasses ready and block out some private time on your schedule, because...

"I'm about to make you wet."
Talon p.s.

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