So, without further ado.... here they are.
I love coming to chat to Doris. Usually, I try to get one of my characters to interview her, but this time she got me. She said no grandson cuddles if I didn't do it myself.
Here we go then.
(Yep, I'm mean like that. *sniggers*)
Who would have thought a white van could play such a big part in bringing people together?
Ailsa and Aiden didn't have a clue.
I've persuaded Aiden to talk to me, and explain a little bit about the mystery. Or should I say, Alisa persuaded him. I just got all shivery when he looked at me in 'that way' and resisted the urge to let him take over. He has such a way with him, you know?
R: So, Aidan what did you think when you first saw Ailsa?
A: Why isn't she on her knees.
(The expression wicked evil grin could have been formed just for him. It's in the eyes, and the way his lips curl up so very sexily and…oh my, he's giving me 'that look'.)
R: Ah, right. And then?"
A: How did she get here. Then, before you ask, I was glad she was there, and I plotted how to get her on her knees.
R: Was it easy?
A: Narrows his eyes. No, but nothing in this life that’s worth having is easy. It has to be Ailsa's decision. I wasn't going to affect it in any way. Grin. Well, not except by showing her what we could have.
A: Well you know, you wrote our story for us. For anyone else. Shrug. They'll need to read Secrets Remembered to find out.
I got the impression that a clam is easier to prise open than Aidan. But in the interests of this blog, I'm nothing if not persistent.
R: And the white van?
A: Is white. And annoying. Pause We really don’t know what it's all about. (He does that all out Dom look again. I tell you my knees are shaking.)
A: And dear Raven, if you do discover what it's all about before us, or think you do, you will tell us, won't you.
R: Oh yes.
A: Good. Then are you busy? Do you want to come and play?
R: What do you think…Sir.
Here's the series blurb…
Secret. What's happens there stays there.
It doesn't matter whether you want to learn or teach, be in control or controlled, Diomhair could be the place for you.
The ruined castle deep in the Scottish countryside had been rebuilt into an exclusive, private, BDSM club, where people could learn about and enjoy the lifestyle.
Not everyone approved, and not everyone appreciated it, but for those who did and fit the criteria, it was somewhere to go and be themselves, relax and play.
And if you found love there, your own perfect match, well that could only be a bonus.
And the book blurb…
What comes first your happiness or your job?
Ailsa McLagan is sent undercover to investigate possible shady dealings at the private BDSM Club Diomhair. The last thing she expects is to be confronted by one of the Masters there. Not only does he make her want her to sink to her knees, but he seems to see straight through her disguise, too.
Aidan is instantly attracted to the clueless Sub he stumbles upon. Even though he knows she is hiding her true identity he can't help but push her to discover her limits, and introduce her to the delights of subbing to him.
Scared by the intensity if her reaction, Ailsa runs and all seems lost.
When the truth is revealed, can they work towards a true Dom/sub relationship, even though theirs started on a lie?
And of course, a wee tease…
Ailsa couldn't take her eyes off the tiny teardrop shaped orb of molten wax as it fell towards her. It was all well and good being told to regulate your breathing, absorb the pain and breathe through it, but it didn't help at all when you had no idea what it all meant. Why hadn't she fessed up and said she wasn't the sub?
Because that would have dropped her even deeper in the mire and he night have been the one to say red.
The wax hit her chest and she gasped, made a noise between a sob and a scream and stifled the swear words that came to mind. The sting wasn't a sting. It was pain. Red hot radiating pain that filled her, and made her breath come in short sharp pants, and caused her to pull at her restraints.
Her tongue felt like cotton wool, which filled her mouth and made it dry and unusable. It was hard to clamp down on the panic she felt. How could she shout red when her voice wouldn't work? Even the fact Aidan was staring at her intently didn't help. He said he could read her, dammit, so why wasn't he stopping?
It was like something out of a horror film as the next drop of wax, and the next got closer and closer to her body, and hit.
Onto the swell of her breasts, one by one and close to each other. The sting struck, the pain began…Ailsa coughed. "Ahhh, ohh r…" she stopped speaking. The pain was different. Oh it stung but the sting was like someone was trailing their finger over her skin, creating tiny pulses of pleasure.
Aidan straightened the candle up so the wax gathered in the shallow dip by the wick.
"Colour?" His voice wasn't steady and that tiny hint of vulnerability resonated with Ailsa.
"Green, oh my, argh." She was babbling but didn't give a damn. "More please. Take my top off." She knew without a shadow of a doubt she wanted to see what he would achieve without having to try and miss the strip of cloth that covered her breasts. "Really, Sir, green. I want to feel it all. You were right, the pain isn't an ouchie pain, it's an 'I want to feel more' pain. Green."
Would he do as she wanted? How on earth could he, without untying her and spoiling the moment?
Three seconds later, Ailsa realised she shouldn't have worried. After all he was a Dom and probably used to subs changing their minds like they changed their knickers. Aidan nodded, put the candle down in a safety holder on the table, and lifted a wicked looking knife from the table. The blade was a good nine inches long, with a serrated edge and a sharp point and the handle was thick and indented for fingers and thumbs, to enable the user to clasp it safely.
It was one thing to tell yourself that he would be more than competent when he used it, another not to find your heart beating faster when the tip slid almost lazily across your skin and the point lifted the wax that clung there. Aidan flicked the cold pieces away like he was brushing crumbs from a tablecloth. Then he slid the blade of the knife under her top between her breasts and pushed upward. The material parted as if it was held together by a thread, not a tight knit weave, and slid over her sensitive breasts and nipples to allow cool air to caress them like a lover's kiss. Aidan smiled and rested the cold flat of the blade over her heart and moved it carefully over her skin.
"One day, I'll scribe you." He said the words so quietly that Ailsa thought he was talking to himself. "Ready to be decorated, pet?"
No more mention of scribing? Ailsa wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. Mind you her idea as to what it meant was somewhat hazy. Scratches that didn't last? She made a mental note to research it. Hold on woman, learn to accept and like one thing at once. Walk, don't run. Aidan cleared his throat, and Ailsa realised she hadn't answered him.
"Oh, yes, Sir." She regulated her breathing, a lot happier now she knew what to expect, and relaxed into the hard mattress as best as she could. How she wished her head was raised a little so she could see better.
Was he a mind reader? Aidan replaced the knife in its cover and bent to reach under the bed. With a whirring noise, the top third tilted a little, just enough for Ailsa to be able to look down her body. Then he stood back, picked up two candles and held one in each hand.
He didn't speak again, but began to rotate and move his hands. It was mesmeric to watch as he twisted and turned them and wax slid and slipped down the length of their candles. Tiny granules formed and twisted and almost shimmered as they spiralled downward towards her skin.
When the first one hit, Ailsa stopped thinking and let her senses fill her instead. The sting, the tug on her heart, the way her inner muscles tightened and her pussy throbbed all morphed into one hazy, arousal filled sensation of pleasure.
With each new arc of wax, somewhere else began to sting and sing. Aidan knew what he was doing, and created a web of wax to decorate her skin. Nothing formal but a beautiful intricate design that any abstract artist would be proud of. Something as good as an old master by a new one. That thought would have made her snigger except she didn't want to miss one second of what was happening.
Then, suddenly it was over. Aidan put down the candles, untied her and wrapped the blanket Ross had handed him around her, without removing the wax.
Ailsa began to shake, and burst into tears. He cuddled her close and stroked her hair.
"Shhh, let it out, it's normal and natural. There, there." He held her close and whispered nonsensical words until she quieted.
Ailsa sniffed and looked around. "Can I have a tissue please?"
Connie handed her one and she whispered her thanks. Her voice didn't seem to belong to her. None of her did. It was strange and disquieting.
She wondered what happened next. After all she was still coated in wax, half naked, and in a room with virtual strangers. For the first time she saw the sense in having more than one person around. As long as they weren't all axe murderers.
I hope that got you a wee bit hot and bothered…
(I'm now off for grandson cuddles)
Love R x
Oops forgot the buy link…
and you can stalk me here