TOUCH OF A DOM by Madeleine Oh

TOUCH OF A DOM by Madeleine Oh

Dominant Lovers Series Book Two

With her mother recently dead, Adele Royer is determined to find the father who abandoned them when she was a toddler. The only clues she has are two addresses in Nice that she finds among her mother’s papers. Determined to start her search in the South of France, she applies for a job as cook in Eze and becomes part of Luc Prioux’s staff at Les Santons.

She loves the job and is more than ready to begin her search but Branko Odic, Luc’s secretary, proves to be a delicious distraction. The passion they share is undeniable, their chemistry tangible. He becomes her dream Dominant in bed and a true friend as he aids her in her quest.

Together they find her father in nearby Cannes. But Adele is in for the shock of a lifetime.

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Spectacle was the only word for the sight below. By the light of dozens of candles, a woman was spread-eagled on some sort of table by the pergola and a near-naked man stood at her head, cracking the whip on the paving stones. He was skilled, even in the poor light that was clear enough. With confident movements he whirled the whip from side to side, hitting the ground but never touching the woman. Her quiet moans rose up to where Adele watched and she shut her eyes a moment, imagining herself in the woman’s place and feeling the rush as the evil whip cut the night air.

Adele grasped the window sill to steady herself as her body responded to the sights and sounds below. She had missed this. How many months had it been since she’d had a session with a skilled Dominant? And this man was skilled. Was it Branko? Had to be. The security on the estate was far too tight for random couples to wander in and frolic on the terrace at will. Besides, this scene was carefully choreographed. She’d taken part in far too many not to notice that right away.

Helen –it had to be her–moaned and Adele moaned with her. This was too much, too wonderful but what the hell were they really doing? Had to be put on for her titillation. This employee benefit hadn’t been mentioned during the interview.

The tempo changed, the bullwhip hit the ground with a most stimulating crack and the man went over to the side and took up a flogger. It was unmistakable, even from here, and Adele cast a longing thought to her own flogger, now in her underwear drawer. She longed to feel its kiss on her skin. As Adele watched, Helen’s head and shoulders moved a little but mostly she sighed, reveling in the sweet caress as Branko stroked the full width of the spread tresses up and down her body before trailing them loosely down the inside of one leg and up the other.

Seemed he liked the effect, or perhaps her response, as he repeated the movement several times until Adele was half-ready to call out to him to do more, to ply the flogger harder and, as if sensing her wish, he did just that.

With a practiced and very skilled movement of the wrist, he tapped the end of the tresses across Helen’s thighs and shoulders and then flicked the flogger across her breasts. Oh! Switching techniques like that teased and aroused. Adele was wild and ready and whatever happened next and she was merely a spectator.

In the night she heard him say, “Are you ready, my dear?”

She darn well was. More than ready, overly ready, dying from readiness. This should be her reward. It was going to be.

Without pausing for slippers or robe, Adele dashed across the room, through the apartment and down the outside stairs. She ran across the drive, barely noticing the gravel on her bare feet, and called out, “No!”



Branko turned and watched as Adele ran toward them. This had not been part of his plan. A quick glance at Helen, still prone on the bench, showed she was even more stunned. Understandable, given her state of arousal.

“No?” he asked, sounding feeble to his own ears. “Were you invited?” Bit lame that but hell, he was ad libbing here.

“I invited myself. Wasn’t I intended to?”

Not exactly but now she was here he looked at her intently, hair all over the place, nothing on but a flimsy nightgown that did nothing to hide her full breasts and very tight nipples and the scent of her arousal filled the air. Her appearance was unexpected and downright unintended but most certainly not unwelcome.

“I’m glad you did, but tell me,” he hardened his voice, “why are you here, Adele?”

She shivered under his scrutiny but he suspected it wasn’t from cold, Rather from something far more enticing. For both of them.

She took a deep breath, tilted up her chin and met hid eyes. No modest and submissive lowering of eyes for her. He rather liked her attitude. “I’m in need and horny and you and your partner pretty much drove me to the edge.”

“Pretty much?” He raised his eyebrows slowly and met her eyes steadily. “Does that mean you are still on the edge?”

“Yes, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“And you expect me to take care of that?”

“Why not? You seem expert at these things.”

She was in need and wanted him. Wanted him to oblige her. He could be very obliging when necessary. He stepped close to her and fingered the neck of her nightgown. Nice, flimsy cotton, perfect to his mind. It covered but really didn’t conceal much. But even so…

“If you want me, you’d better be naked.” He put in just a hint of menace. Her breath caught but the nightgown was off and over her head before she exhaled.

Now he gasped. He’d seen many naked women, dozens even, but Adele took his breath away. Her breasts were large but gloriously firm and rounded, her nipples dark and every bit as hard as the little bumps under her nightgown had suggested but it was the incredible curve of her belly and generous roundness of her hips that drew his eyes down to the dark triangle of her pussy. His cock responded with passion, dire need and sheer and fantastic horniness.

He wanted her, right here and now but first… He raised the flogger that was still in his hand and asked, “Would you like me to discipline you?” She nodded. “I thought you might but— Damn!” He threw the flogger to the ground. “That will have to wait for next time.” He certainly couldn’t. Branko pulled her close, pressing his erection into the warmth of her lovely belly and he took her mouth with his.

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HAND OF THE MASTER By Madeleine Oh

HAND OF THE MASTER by Madeleine Oh

Dominant Lovers Series Book One

Helen Crewe goes to Les Santons for a new job and much needed change in her life. What greets her is fascinating work cataloging a library of erotic literature and illustrations. And then there is Luc, her definitely sexy and truly dominant employer.
 
Aided by his secretary Branko, Luc makes Helen feel very much at home on his estate overlooking the sea. It seems like the perfect situation—sunshine, great work and two eager Doms as lovers. Or it would be, if it weren’t for the break-in and violent attack on a fellow employee that quickly change the course of Helen’s idyllic escape.

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~Excerpt~

Helen turned, swiveling the chair. Luc stood in the doorway, smiling.

God! No employer had the right to be so sexy. A smile like his should be illegal, but it was also wonderful when aimed right at her.

“Good afternoon, Madame Crewe.”

“Hi.” Seemed a rather inadequate response to his warm, and decidedly enticing, French accent.
“Branko said you’d be back late.” As if it made any difference and what business was it of hers if her employer chose to walk into his own house earlier than expected?

He gave a very Gallic shrug. “My business was over and I wanted to review your progress.”

That was easy and safe enough.

Or was it? His gaze pretty much fixated on the leather manacles. As did hers, as he reached over her shoulder, not touching, but his arm came close enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin. He picked up the first restraint, running his fingers over the red leather.

“Ah,” he said, as the corner of his wide mouth twitched. “You found them.”

Obviously. And what was she to make of that comment? Did he know about the other contents of that box? “Yes,” she replied, forcing her voice to stay level. “An interesting collection. I wasn’t sure how they should be cataloged.”

His laugh came like warm honey across her skin. All that was needed was for him to lick it off. Whoa. Not a chance. She was not getting involved that way with him. Even if he did have eyes that promised wild pleasure and…

She gulped as he ran the silk lining over his hands. His fingers were long and slender and curled over the soft leather as if caressing it. And darn him, he was watching her. Gauging her reaction. At least she remembered to close her mouth.

“You wonder how to catalog them?” he asked, and smiled. “I’m not sure one can. How would you describe the contents of my box?”

His box? He’d put it there? “Assorted sex toys,” she replied, pleased she managed it without panting or gasping.

“Yes,” he replied. “The perfect description.”

Pretty basic and hardly that impressive. “An interesting collection. Has it been in your family long?” Sheesh. Where had that come from?

Wherever it came from, it made him happy, if the glint in his eyes was anything to go by. “No, not long, Mrs. Crewe.” He was still running the restraint through his fingers. There was something almost mesmerizing about the red leather against his skin. “And these are especially fine. Made in an atelier in Milan.” He took her hand in his and wrapped the manacle around her wrist. “See how well it fits? The glove leather is like a second skin.”

Yes, she did see, and feel. Was it the softness of the leather or the warm caress of silk lining that had her catching her breath? Could be his voice in her ear and the touch of his fingers against her skin. Or maybe she was just desperate for it.

Or him. So much for not getting involved with her employer. No man looked at a woman with that look in his eyes if all he was interested in was progress of the catalog.

No, that was… “What do you think, Madame Crewe?”

That she was getting horny and he was eminently fuckable. “Excellent workmanship. Italians have always been renowned for the quality of their leather work.” She sounded like a walking tourist brochure.

Amused him though. “Indeed they have. Now tell me,” as he spoke he tightened the buckle, securing the leather to her wrist,. “how does that feel?”

“Wonderful.” She’d blurted without thinking and it couldn’t be unsaid.

“You enjoy the caress of a restraint, Madame Crewe?”

He was heating her up, but still addressed her formally. The French really were different. “I used to.”

“Ah.” One syllable carried so much understanding. “When your husband was alive?”

She nodded. God, it had been so long.

“Forgive me. I intrude where I have no right.” He unbuckled the manacle and unwound it from her wrists. “My apologies. But the leather looked so fitting against your skin.” He turned, taking both the manacles with him. “Again forgive me. I will see you at dinner.”

He might have gone but his presence remained. Did all men here wear super-sexy aftershave? His left behind a faint whiff of bergamot. Forget his choice of perfume. What was she to make of that little episode? She closed her eyes, remembering the touch of his fingers on her skin and the pressure of silk and the scent of soft leather. Darn. She was reading far too much into one casual conversation.

And if she wasn’t?

Then she had some decisions to make.

And the rest of the box to catalog. She was pretty sure there wasn’t a Dewey Decimal code for Assorted Sex Toys. She’d better invent one. Fast.

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L'AUBERGE PIPISTRELLI: PLEASURE A LA CARTE by Madeleine Oh

L'Auberge Pipistrelli
St Pierre sur Clure
Alpes Maritimes.
Nice 30 km, Grasse 15km.

PLEASURE A LA CARTE - A L'Auberge Pipistrelli Novel by Madeleine Oh

Comfortable accommodations in a restored country manor house and surrounding cottages. Every luxury assured. The management is committed to meeting the guests' every need -- no matter what it takes.

Maria is now head chef of the Auberge, and very content with her vampire lover, Acelin. Life is close to perfect -- until Elaine Vargas returns to L'Auberge Pipistrelli and Luc faces the quandary of his life -- can love and passion override deep seated and intense prejudice? Is there any hope for a lasting relationship between a lupo mannaro and a loup garou?

L'Auberge Pipistrelli -- The Inn of the Vampires... owned and operated by werewolves.

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Luc Mannaro stared at the computer screen in disbelief. After months of near silence (a few exchanged e-mails didn't count) Elaine was coming back. Not just coming back to stay at L'Auberge Pipistrelli, but coming back for the full moon. That meant she planned on running with them, as her wolf.

Given as she'd saved his lupine hide last time she'd shared the hills with him, he couldn't complain. Besides, he had a connection with Elaine Vargas that had him thinking of her as a potential mate.

But -- and this was a stumbling block of major proportions -- how on earth could he even consider taking a loup garou as a mate, when Marcel and he had exiled Maria for the very same reason?

She'd been nineteen and far too young to mate anyway, but the idea of one of their ancient lupo mannaro lineage consorting with a mere loup garou had sent both Marcel and him into a flat panic.

It was close to impossible, but now he was considering the same possibility.

Maria would flip her lid. After she savaged him. He knew he could hold his own against her, but she'd grown into a strong and fierce wolf. She wouldn't let him get away unmarked. Ever.

"You're looking very pensive," the woman of his thoughts -- at least the sibling oriented ones -- said from the doorway. "Something wrong?"

"Just looking at the new bookings. There's a guest returning. I think she was one of your recommendations. Elaine Vargas."

Maria smiled and came to lean over his shoulder and look at the computer. "Did she enjoy her stay? She mentioned she was coming here but I never heard from her afterward."

Just as well. The last thing he needed was to be the subject of girl talk. "Seems she did enjoy herself." And him, although the pleasure was mutual. "She's coming back."

"Good! I'd love to see her again." Maria started to leave and he let out a breath. Too soon, she turned back and gave him a really wicked grin. "Which of you two entertained her? Or did you make it a threesome?"

"For crying out loud, Maria! What do you think we are?"

Her raucous laugh was totally unnecessary. "I think, dear brother, that the pair of you do everything in your power to send guests away satisfied. So, who took care of Elaine?"

She wasn't going to give up. "I did."

The laugh wasn't raucous this time, it was downright mischievous, with a sneaky little bit of dirty. "Good. She was pleased about everything? You were okay?"

He let out a low growl. The way she leaned on the doorjamb suggested she wasn't going anywhere for a while. He might as well tell her.

Better him than Marcel.

"She went home happy, very happy I hope, and you might as well know, she saved me after I got caught in a trap. An illegal trap, I hasten to add. She got me free and drove Marcel and me home on her back seat. If you'd mentioned she was a shifter, it would have been thoughtful."

Maria shrugged. "If I had mentioned she was loup garou, I bet you'd have been full that weekend."

True.

"So?" she asked.

"So what?"

"What did you think of her, aside from her reprehensible bloodlines, of course?"

That was a very, very pointed dig. Understandable, he supposed, but had they used those very same words?

"Maria, did we really hurt you so much? We thought it was just calf love and he wasn't the right sort for you. What did you say he did for a living? Run a body shop? You have the heritage of the Mannaros in your blood."

"Oh, Luc, honestly!" She turned and walked away. Or rather strode away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

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