How does a slave become an equal? What does it take for a young man to see women in a new light?
In the fourth installment of her Blue Moon House series, Angelica introduces Will, a slave boy from the early nineteenth century. You can purchase Slave on Amazon. Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks and Naughty Nights Press.
Angelica Dawson is the author of Blue Moon House, which has been in the top ten best-selling titles at Naughty Nights Press for over six months. She has also written two short stories, “The Highest Bidder” and “Leave Taking” which were each included in anthologies. She contributes flash fiction to several blogging collectives and excerpts from work in progress can also be found on her blog. She is active on Facebook and Twitter.
She has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards – mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.
Here is an excerpt from Slave:
After switching his attack to her chest, he returned to her legs again. He knew he could continue to strike a spot if he gave enough time between lashes. Then he took hold of the hair between her legs and pulled hard on it.
The woman arched her back and murmured. She wasn’t in pain; she was about to climax. He could feel her skin vibrating with pent up pleasure. She ground into his coiled fingers.
He released her hair and kicked her legs farther apart. He slapped the inside of each thigh and she gyrated more. Gripping the dark, curly hair of her sex, he tugged and she cried out. Again, it wasn’t a plea to stop, rather a call to God. He pulled his hand back and slapped her sex.
“Will!” Terrance called. The woman just bucked harder. He rubbed his palm into her for a moment, and then wound up for another strike.
“Yes,” she groaned, rubbing herself into his hand, her orgasm just about to break loose. He struck her one last time, hitting her sex hard, and she screamed out, her legs closing around his hand as she moaned and writhed. He curled his fingers and slipped them into her canal. She closed her eyes and squeezed happily on him. As she relaxed, he noticed the flush that had spread down her chest, turning her dark skin slightly rosy.
He leaned over her, his hand still cupping her, fingers inserted. He kissed one breast and then took a nipple between his teeth, biting softly. He rolled it between his teeth, his tongue touching the tip before biting down again.
The woman was lost. She thrust into his hand while reaching to pinch her other nipple. “Yes, yes, Master. Hurt me. Fuck, it feels good.”
