Make Me Sierra Cartwright
In books written as Sierra Cartwright, I take a walk on the wild side, exploring my characters' complex feelings and emotions as they explore issues of submisison, of dominance, of giving themselves over completely in a safe, loving environment. I look at some hard issues, some things that may make the characters themselves uncomfortable. I don't shy away from difficult conversations or actions, always being true to my characters. If you enjoy a walk on the wild side, I invite you to try a Sierra title or two.
Without another warning, her body went rigid before she moved again in short, desperate little motions as she fought for her orgasm.With his mouth, his touch, he helped her along.She raised herself onto her tiptoes, and the slight shift forced his tongue deeper.One of her heels slammed onto the floor, a sound of satisfaction if he’d ever heard one.“That was sensational,” she whispered as he drew away. “Thank you, again.”An intense flare of lust gnawed at his insides. Making subs shatter was his passion.
But it was nothing more than a job. He never engaged. Instead, he held himself and his emotions at a distance. He used a critical and artistic eye to make the scene sizzle. This time, though, his focus was solely on the curvaceous blonde. “I think that’s enough of an appetiser.”“Oh, Sir”After washing up, he returned to her.
He skimmed his forefinger across her cheekbone. “Would you like to continue?”Instead of the usual response where she would defer to his decision, she said, “Yes, please.”The surety in her voice stoked his craving for her.He crossed to the wall and raised the hook, stretching her body taut, keeping her in place and wide open for him.
Make Me Sierra Cartwright Photos
“Comfortable?” he asked as he crossed the room to check her bonds and positioning. He knew erotic pain could trump real cramps, at least in the short-term. It was his responsibility to ensure she was free to enjoy his torture.He walked around her, looking at her from every angle. “You’re a beautiful woman, Brandy.”Her nipples were erect, as if begging for his touch.
There was nothing clinical about the way he took hold of each and squeezed the pink flesh between his thumbs and forefingers. This was about her pleasure rather than for maximum effect.With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes.“Look at me,” he instructed.She complied right away.“Good,” he told her.
“As much as possible, I want you looking at me. Talk to me, communicate with me. Scream, even.”“I’m not much of a screamer, Sir.”“Yet,” he countered.“Challenge on, Sir.”“Bratty sub.”“You could have ordered me to be quiet.”“No chance in hell.” He couldn’t remember anything this pleasurable inperhaps years. “Any preference in floggers?”“Thuddy, not stingy.”“So I can beat you for a good, long time?”“Yes, please, Sir.”“It will be my pleasure.”Her eyes were wide. He saw expectancy in the deep blue depths. He and Brandy were more alike than he might have thought.
Like him, what they had done had merely whetted her appetite.