Love is in the Air Blog Hop & Giveaway
“Kallypso delves into their minds deeper than ever before and I loved how much like REAL people her characters are. They are complex. They mess up. Sometimes they don't make sense, just like true human beings. I love how that, as an Indie author, Kallypso strives to give us as near-perfect a story as possible. And she succeeds!” (from one of hundreds of 5-star Amazon reviews for Somebody’s Angel)
Welcome to all who are following the annual Love is in the Air blog hop at Under the Covers. I’m Kallypso Masters and I write the Rescue Me series, an ongoing saga about a family of choice consisting primarily military men and women and their friends struggling to overcome deep wounds from both combat and life. In a saga, characters never really resolve all their issues and will come back as secondary characters in a subplot in another book to work on their issues, even long after their Happily Ever After.
That’s what happened with the couple from Nobody’s Angel (book 2). It took an epic-sized novel—Somebody’s Angel (book 5)—and the entire Masters at Arms Club family to get at what has been buried beneath the surface for Marc his entire life. Angelina’s insecurities have resurfaced, as well, despite having made some progress in the previous few months. We all know how that goes—you don’t lose self-image insecurities just because someone starts to make you believe you’re beautiful.
But for this hop, I thought a romantic scene might give you some ideas for your own Valentine’s Day rendezvous. This scene happens earlier in the book before things hit rock bottom for their relationship.
It’s New Year’s weekend and they’re on a visit to Marc’s family ski resort. He has been delivered some news earlier this evening that has sent Marc into a tailspin. After running from the one person who can complete him (running is one of his defenses), he comes back to her ready to employ another of his emotional defense mechanisms—distract the lady with kink and sex and she won’t want to discuss important issues. Well, at this stage in the story, that tactic still works for him.
So who’s up for a little food play with my favorite Italian-American chef and her native Italian lover? (I must have been hungry when I wrote this book because there’s also a hot food-play harem scene later between Adam and Karla. I actually go inside the heads of eight of the beloved characters in the series as each couple continues its own journey in the saga.)
Excerpt from Somebody’s Angel
What was he running from this time? Was it what Melissa had said? He didn't seem to give any credence to her claim. Then what was it? Tonight Marc had started to open up to her, only to pull the mask back in place and run from her.
Tired of shivering, she tossed the bed covering back and went to the thermostat near the closet to adjust the dial. Soon the hum of the heater drowned out the deadly silence.
Angelina heard the lock on the door behind her whirr to life, and her heart tripped a beat. Marc! Relief flooded her as she turned to watch him kick the door open with his foot while struggling with a server’s tray laden with two room-service covers. The only light in the room came from the bathroom. His gaze homed in on the empty bed first, and then he scanned the room until he found her standing naked by the closet.
Angelina rushed to hold the door open and noticed the bottles of club soda and the familiar rectangular one of amaretto—the makings for an Italian tickler, her favorite cocktail. Maybe she was in store for an Italian tickler of another sort tonight, too.
He smiled at her, and for a moment, the world righted itself. Her spirits lifted.
“I raided the kitchen.”
Her stomach growled at the mention of food, even though she couldn’t smell anything from the tray he set on the bed.
“I’d planned to order you to strip first, but I see you’ve taken care of that already.”
What happened to alter Marc’s mood since he’d gone downstairs a couple of hours ago? Who cared? He was back with her. She walked into his embrace, loving the feel of her cheek against his shirt and his warm chest.
“I missed you, Marc.”
“I wasn’t gone long enough to miss, was I?”
Maybe not in chronological time, but she felt as if he’d been light years away. “You scared me. I didn’t know if you’d come back at all tonight.”
He grasped her upper arms and held her away, searching her face. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
She thought he might explain what that was all about, but he didn’t.
“It’s too late to take you out for dinner, but I’m going to make sure my girl is fed at least.” He pulled away and gazed down at her. “Wait here.”
He was leaving her again already? She stifled a groan, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with several fluffy white towels. He spread them over the pillows and the center of the bed and went to the bar to retrieve the ice bucket.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
He set the latch on the door to keep it from locking automatically and carried the bucket out for ice. Soon he returned to the room and placed the bottle of club soda in the ice bucket on the bedside stand. Why didn’t he just put it in the refrigerator?
He turned to her again.
“Lie in the center of the bed. On your back.”
A mixture of excitement and disappointment warred within her, but when he walked to the closet to retrieve some things from his toy bag, excitement won out. She crawled onto the bed and assumed the position he’d requested. Her Sir was back in control and taking care of her. Everything would be okay. Later, they could deal with whatever had happened earlier. Right now, it was Marc and Angelina and the rest of the world could go to…
When he brought the cuffs with chains toward her, she quirked a brow. “How can I eat if I’m in chains?”
“That’s for me to worry about. Tell me your safeword.”
“Red.” Her heart pounded as their oh-so-familiar Safe, Sane, and Consensual dance began. But why would she need a safeword to eat?
“Your caution or slow-down word?”
Angelina swallowed hard to get past the pulse beating wildly in her throat. “Yellow.”
“Good girl. Now, I want silence unless you need to use one of your words or I ask a direct question.” He reached his hand out to her. “Give me your wrist.”
She obeyed, and within minutes he’d restrained both to the headboard posts. She always loved this position, because it lifted her girls to where they looked almost perky. Marc tweaked one nipple, and it swelled to life. He liked this position, too.
Preparing to get into the right headspace, she lowered her gaze to her feet only to be surprised when he cuffed the left one and chained it to the post on the footboard. Her stomach growled, and she looked up at him. “Is there even going to be any food tonight?”
He gave her a stern look, and she remembered her place, averting her gaze.
He surprised her by responding. “My girl has been known to have a problem lying still when I play with her, so I’m just ensuring there won’t be any limbs flying when she gets ticklish.”
When, not if. So he was going to tickle her? Apparently, she’d underestimated how many Italian ticklers she’d be having. What did he have planned for tonight?
She watched with delight as he unscrewed the cap on the amaretto, poured a splash into a highball glass, and added a healthy amount of mixer. No ice. She wouldn’t get a buzz off that small amount of liquor, but he never let her drink much while playing. She smelled wine on his breath when he’d held her but had never known him to over-imbibe. The man was a bit of a control freak.
After pouring a similarly weak drink for himself, he sat on the edge of the bed, raised his glass and said, “Alla mia bellissima ragazza.”
Her heart warmed at his words—his very beautiful girl. He took a sip, nodded his approval before setting his glass on the nightstand, placing a straw in the other glass, and putting it to her lips for her to taste. The bubbles in the club soda went straight to her nose.
She giggled but remembered not to speak as she sipped.
He placed her glass beside his and lifted a cover off one of the plates. Thin slices of prosciutto had been rolled around chunks of cantaloupe, one of her favorite appetizers. Beside them was a medium-sized zucchini, its stem removed.
“Open for me, pet.”
Marc fed her half a dozen pieces of the wrapped cantaloupe and slowly took the edge off her hunger. He turned his attention to the tray once more and lifted the other lid off a plate of at least a dozen plump strawberries.
He held one to her mouth. "Bite it in half."
She did so and couldn't believe how fresh it tasted. Where had they found such flavorful berries this time of year? Well, she supposed no amenity was too good for the guests of a four-star resort.
Marc took the uneaten part of the berry and rubbed it over her lips, coating them in the cool juice. He bent to kiss her, flicking his tongue along her mouth as he lapped up the sweetness. She swallowed the bite of berry before opening her mouth to him and letting him plunge his warm tongue inside.
Breathing hard, he backed off. "Not so fast, pet. I want to savor our time tonight."
Angelina groaned. She'd been anticipating making love with Marc for days. Now he wanted her to wait even longer?
Marc took another berry from the plate. "Bite."
She followed his orders. At least she was getting dinner in bed.
“Ack!” She shrieked, jerking away as much as she could when he lowered the remaining half berry to her nipple and rubbed. The coldness of the fruit caused the peak to bunch and swell. He repeated the motion with her other nip and then cupped her heavy girls in his hands as he lifted one to meet his descending mouth. He flicked his tongue against the sensitive tip, and she felt it grow even larger.
Electricity zinged to her pussy and clit, and she bucked her hips toward him. Marc chuckled but ignored her lower half as he continued to lave her nipples long after the strawberry juice was gone. He bit her other nipple, and she bucked again. How much longer would he make her wait?
Wait for what? Him—or the food?
She wanted both. Needed both.
“Does my girl want more of her tickler?”
Which tickler did he mean? Oh, heck, she was ready for either—or both. “Yes, Sir.”
He picked up the glass with the straw, and she was momentarily disappointed; then he put his mouth to the straw and sucked in. Using his finger to plug the end when he removed it from his mouth, he brought the straw toward her. She opened her mouth and nearly screamed when he released his finger to allow the cold drink to dribble onto her breast.
“Mio Dio! That’s cold!”
The fizz from the soda made her skin tingle. Her nipple tightened again.
“You weren’t given permission to speak. We’ll have to work on discipline later. But here, let me warm you up.”
Mio Dio, her face grew flushed as he lowered his mouth to her so his tongue could lap up the drink. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations as the warmth of his tongue and the fizziness of the drink sent electrical pulses to her clit. She hissed when more soda water dripped onto the other nipple and moaned as he sucked her hard peak into his mouth.
She reached for him, but the restraints kept her from touching him. She wanted him to hurry, touch her everywhere, and enter her pussy hard and fast, but he continued to suck on and lick her nipples.
Please, Sir. More!
He chuckled and withdrew. Had she actually spoken aloud or was he just that in tune with her thoughts? Oh, no! Maybe he’d gotten a diabolical thought about where else he could put that fizzy drink. He sat up, grinned at her, and filled the straw once more. Never removing his gaze from hers, he brought the filled straw toward her. A drop splashed on her belly, but he didn’t stop there. She tried to close her legs, but they wouldn’t budge.
Do. Not. Tell. Him. No. Trying to maintain her composure, her discipline, she closed her eyes and waited.
“Look at me.”
She wrinkled her brow but complied.
“You are not to come without permission.”
She groaned. He only said that when he intended to make her wait a very long time to reach her climax. The bastard.
She watched as he reached for the bottle of club soda and poured a liberal amount over her. The cold liquid fizzed over her labia and clit hood, awakening her senses.
“Dio!” She remembered her discipline but heard the bed groan as she fought the restraints. Thank God she’d adjusted the thermostat in the room. She hadn’t expected to be doused in chilled club soda tonight.
Before all of the bubbles had burst, Marc crawled onto the bed, snagged a pillow from under her left arm, and ordered her to lift her hips. He crouched down and used his cold fingers to open her lower lips.
For him, she did feel beautiful. Angelina watched as he bent to her shaved mound, and his tongue lapped at any remaining liquid on her skin. Just when she’d begun to warm up, he reached for the capped bottle lying on the bed beside him and unscrewed the top. She momentarily clenched her eyes shut until she remembered his instructions, and with a deep breath, she opened her eyes, met his gaze, and waited.
He grinned, his teeth white against his olive skin, and she felt him spread her labia open a half second before he poured the soda directly onto her clit.
Don’t scream this time.
She fought to maintain control but melted as he lowered his mouth and licked the fizzy liquid from the folds of her sex. He didn’t touch her clit but teased the sides of the hood until she was ready to beg for mercy.
Don’t beg. Wait.
She fought for self-discipline—but she wanted to come. Now!
Marc rammed two fingers inside her pussy, and she clenched her hands, fighting for control.
“So wet for me. Perhaps my girl’s pussy needs to be fed, too.”
Her muscles tightened around his fingers in anticipation. She hadn’t been asked a question, but she hoped her eyes expressed her need to be filled with whatever he wanted to ram inside her.
Please let it be his penis.
She heard the familiar foil wrapper.
Yes, yes, yes!
He lowered his face to her pussy once more and took her clit between his teeth, holding it while he reached up and tweaked her nipple. His hand left her. She gave in to the sensations of his mouth on her when something cold pressed against her opening.
She glanced at the tray. What happened to the zucchini?
Oh, but he would. He shoved the chilled vegetable inside her, filling her, stretching her.
“Mmmph.” She couldn’t call him all the names she wanted. Discipline. She’d already earned some kind of funishment for speaking before and didn’t want to turn it into outright punishment, but Gesù, that thing was cold!
Then his warm mouth was on her clit again, and the discomfort receded as she felt the pressure of an orgasm rising. He pulled the zucchini out and rammed it back in. While the veggie was warming up, she really wanted his hot cock inside her. When was he going to give her what she needed?
His mouth left her sensitive bundle of nerves before she exploded. “Does my girl need to come?”
Even though she was permitted to speak, she could only nod vigorously and whimper.
“Beg me for it.”
“Please, Sir. Please fill me with your cock. Bring me release. I’ll be your good girl. I’ll do anything you ask. Just please, please let me come.”
He groaned as if in pain, pulled out the zucchini and tossed it into the wastebasket, and crawled over her leg to stand beside the bed, never taking his eyes off her as he hurriedly removed his dress pants and black boxer briefs. His cock stood proudly erect, and her pussy muscles clenched in anticipation. He quickly donned a condom.
“I think you’ll be more comfortable without these.” He released the cuffs from her ankles, letting the chains clank as the cuffs hit the floor at the foot of the bed.
She expected him to release the wrist cuffs as well, but he climbed back onto the bed and stretched out on top of her. His body weight pressed her into the mattress and stretched her arms. “Wiggle your fingers.” She did as he ordered. “Any numbness?” She shook her head no. “Speak loudly if you need me to remove or loosen them now, because I’m going to lose my mind as I drive my cock into your warm, tight pussy, and you may need to capture my attention.”
Her breath hitched in anticipation of the visual his words created. “No, Sir. I’m ready, waiting.”
Without further warning, he took his cock in hand and rubbed it against her cleft. “So wet.” He pressed inside, retreated slightly, and pushed farther into her, filling the emptiness. His eyes never left hers. Pulling out a third time, he grew steely-eyed before ramming himself into her completely.
She wasn’t sure if he was claiming her or her pussy, but both were his for the taking. “Yours, Sir.”
A pained look crossed his face. He grimaced and rammed his cock into her again and again. She wanted to reach up and touch his face, smooth away the creases in his brow, reassure him she’d always be his, but when he reached down and pressed his finger against her clit, her focus shifted instantly.
“Please, Sir. May I come?”
“Yes, pet. Come for me.”
She closed her eyes, lost in the sensations. If her complete and utter surrender didn’t convince him she was his, nothing would.
Series Reading Order, Free Intro, and Buy Links
If you haven’t begun the Rescue Me series, start with the free introduction, Masters at Arms, and meet the first three heroes in the series—Adam, Damián, and Marc. Or go straight to the combo of the first two books (Masters at Arms & Nobody’s Angel) for only 99 cents. From there, it’s Nobody’s Hero (#3), Nobody’s Perfect (#4), and Somebody’s Angel (#5). For buy links to ALL of these books, click Books by Kallypso Masters But here are the quick links to Somebody’s Angel, the latest in the ongoing series, available at all of these booksellers:
Love is in the Air Giveaway
Well, since this is a scene involving food, I’m going to give away a culinary bondage apron or t-shirt. The apron comes in one size and the t-shirts in sizes from Small to 4XL. Good luck! Just fill out the rafflecopter below and comment to enter. International entries welcome!