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There’s more than one kind of pleasure, and Alicia is eager to learn them all.
Finding herself divorced, without a job and in a foreign country, Alicia decides to open her own business as a personal chef specializing in American-style food. Little does she know that her first important client, famed photographer Maverick Devonshire, will become far more than just her employer.
Unable to resist his commanding manner, she follows him into his playroom. Once there, she discovers true empowerment and gains the confidence to become not only a successful businesswoman but also a true submissive. Learning quickly from the consequences administered by Mr. Devonshire and his associates, Alicia finds out that her clients are not the only ones who are Tasting Pleasure.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of F/F intimacy, and menage or more sex. It has been expanded, re-edited and was previously published at Totally Bound Publishing by the author under a different pen-name.
General Release Date: 2nd February 2016
Warm Apple Pie
6 cups peeled and sliced granny smith apples
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon each cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
2 Tablespoons flour
Pastry for a two-crust pie
Line a deep-dish pie pan with one crust. In a bowl, toss all other ingredients. Pour into crust. Lay second crust on top of apples. Seal edges with a fork or fluted design. Paint the top of the crust with an egg wash and sprinkle on sugar. Cut a few slits in the top so that the steam can rise. Bake in a hot oven (420 degrees Fahrenheit) for about 50 minutes or until lightly browned.
I can do this, Alicia thought as she suppressed the urge to lift her head and glance at the door. She knelt on the floor, her knees resting upon a large pillow, leaning forward with her forehead on her crossed hands and her long hair draping the entire length of her back. Her arse, with the word toy still readable on both cheeks, was slightly raised over her ankles. She had assumed this position half an hour earlier.
Maverick had called forty-five minutes before, instructing her to prepare for him. She had not expected him to call. Usually after an encounter as intense as last night, he allowed for a day of recovery. Nonetheless, Alicia had immediately tied up her hair, taken a quick shower, given a small prayer of thanks that she did not have to shave, administered a cool enema, dried herself, applied an oil lightly scented with patchouli and, after relieving her bowels, had assumed this position—all within fifteen minutes. She didn’t wait long before hearing Maverick open the door of the flat, which she had left unlocked in anticipation of his arrival. She had hoped he would come to the bedroom where she patiently knelt before the door, but today he was in no hurry for his greeting.
Alicia felt her back begin to cramp, but she refused to move in order to relieve her discomfort. If Maverick needed time to unwind, so be it. He had trained her well enough that she could endure a short wait. Besides, she estimated she had only been in this position for thirty-five minutes now. She’d waited longer than this before.
Damn! She could feel her heavy hair begin to slide down one side. Now her appearance would be uneven, and she knew how Maverick appreciated symmetry. Her hair was one of her greatest treasures but also one of her greatest trials. Why did it have to be so heavy? The length was challenging enough to deal with—the ends of her curls brushed against the small of her back—but the thickness added a weight that was difficult to control. Normally she would have braided it, but Maverick had expressly told her he wanted it unbound and flowing down her back.
Well, she thought, I did the best I could. She decided she would rather leave the hair unevenly draped than risk moving out of position.
A moment later she was glad of her decision as she heard Maverick’s footsteps. Had she adjusted her hair she would have been out of position and that, more than the hair, would have earned her a punishment. She quivered slightly as she felt him run a single finger along the curve of her buttocks. She lifted her gaze enough to see his shoes—he was wearing his black work ones. That meant he had just finished a shoot. No wonder he hadn’t come to her immediately. He had probably sipped the whiskey she had left waiting for him and simply relaxed in the sitting room for a while. Maverick worked hard and his models often needed coaxing into position.
“Greet me,” Maverick instructed.
Alicia smiled momentarily then raised herself into a kneeling position. She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers. She gently lowered both them and his boxers to the ground and took him into her mouth, cradling his balls in her hands. Remembering his preference for symmetry and balance, Alicia tried to keep an even pressure and rhythm, savoring the taste of his flesh. When she felt him expand within her mouth, she sighed, knowing she had brought him pleasure. This knowledge also gave her exquisite joy. After a few more minutes, she felt his hand on her head and regretfully pulled away from him. She sat back on her heels, keeping her head down, and folded her hands in front of her.
“You please me, Alicia. You’ve grown into an almost perfect companion.” He reached down and stroked her cheek.
Alicia rubbed her face against his hand, thrilled with the unexpected compliment.
“Last night you exceeded even my expectations. I’m very proud of you. Considering the state you were in when we met, I’m astounded at your progress. Stand up, my dear. Tonight we will celebrate your success.”
Alicia was so flustered, she stumbled a bit as she stood. She too was proud of her performance last night but had not been expecting Maverick’s praise. She blushed with the pleasure of his words. She knew, though, that he spoke the truth. When they had first met, she had been a mess. Now she was a successful businesswoman and a perfectly trained companion.
* * * *
One Year Earlier
“And is there anything to which you are allergic?” Alicia asked.
“Shellfish,” Maverick replied.
Alicia scribbled this important information down in her notepad.
“Well then, I believe I have everything I need. If it’s okay with you, I’ll work up a possible menu—for Friday, Saturday and Sunday—and call you tomorrow. You can approve it at that time or make any adjustments you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Maverick answered. “I have given you enough information—my likes and dislikes, the number of people I will be serving, my budget requirements—that I trust you will devise an appropriate menu. I don’t like being interrupted when I’m working so I would not answer the phone anyway.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll be here early Friday afternoon to prepare your meals. Will you be here to let me in or will you hide a key somewhere?” Alicia asked.
“I will give you a spare key. You may come and go as you please. You may supply the pantry or perishable items whenever convenient.”
“Goodness! That’s generous of you. Not to mention quite trusting,” Alicia stated in surprise.
“Not at all. If you steal anything or otherwise damage my property, your business will fail. Since you are just beginning in the personal chef business, you will want to do your best to please me. If you succeed, I will likely recommend your services, or rather those of Tasting Pleasure, to my friends, and you will be able to expand your business. If you do not please me, not only will you not be rehired for next week, but I will hardly recommend you, thereby harming this fledgling endeavor,” Maverick explained.
“I didn’t see it that way, but you’re right,” Alicia commented. Why did this man affect her so? True, she was somewhat shy when she first met people, but Maverick Devonshire certainly disconcerted her. She smoothed her braided hair and ran a hand down her knee-length skirt, trying to hide her nervousness. Briskly, she packed up her papers and stood.
“Thank you, Mr. Devonshire, for this opportunity. If you like American-style cooking, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results,” she said as she held out her hand. She jumped slightly at the tingling sensation that coursed through her when Mr. Devonshire grasped her small hand firmly in his.
“I have every confidence I’ll be pleased,” he answered.
I've wanted to be a published writer all my life but have not had the courage, until recently, to actually submit my writings anywhere. I was raised in a very conservative, Catholic family in a very conservative Mid-Western small town (St. Louis is the closest city!). I've always been a bit of a rebel—wanting to forge my own path, state my own opinions. Erotic romances give me an outlet for both.
I also enjoyed writing poetry, but I am finding even more fulfilment in writing erotic stories. What else do I love to do? Cook, eat chocolate, drink wine or Jameson, listen to Celtic music, spend time with my amazing sons and sexy as hell husband, and entertain friends.
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