Hi everyone, today I'm thrilled to have Siren Author Allyson Young on my blog! It’s the Release Day for her novel Enough (Club Pleasure 7). Awesome! So sit back and enjoy! Take care and cheers!
AUTHOR BIO:
Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She
worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to
the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry,
published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her
high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident,
she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.
Allyson will write until whatever she has inside
her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they
deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the dark side of romance.
ENOUGH (Club Pleasure 7)
Jordan Sterling is well aware he can't pursue a career as a psychologist
without resolving his own central issue—that of never feeling enough. Emily
Brown applied at Club Pleasure before, only to run before actually entering the
scene, feeling fearful and undeserving. Jordan accepts Emily as a training submissive, and she has no intention of falling for her Dom, hoping only to overcome traumatic childhood issues impacting her adult relationships and find some future happiness.
Fighting their attraction, Jordan gives Emily mixed messages, making her his exclusive Club submissive and collaring her. She comes to accept what love looks and feels like, and, no longer a coward, she tells her Dom, who immediately rejects her.
Devastated—and furious, Emily must accept being released. No longer vanilla, she attends a sister club where Jordan, coming to his senses, finds her. He gives her what she needs. Him. He’s enough for her, just as she is enough for him.
Enjoy this adult excerpt
from Enough, Club Pleasure 7
Jordan’s big hands massaged Emily from her shoulders downward and
up again, striving to loosen her tense muscles. When he withdrew, she heard the
rustle of fabric and understood he was removing his clothes, not just freeing
his cock, and her heart lurched at the implication. Not just about fucking
then…
The bed dipped and he lay on his back beside her. She
lifted her head and met his eyes, falling into their depths, searching for what
she desperately wanted to believe was available—to her. If only she could
recognize it. Jordan blinked and the moment was lost.
“Can you shift over me? Are you too sore?”
“No.” She rose to her knees and he helped her straddle him,
his heavy erection flirting with her moistening pussy folds.
“We’ll let last night pass, sweetheart. Move on.” Jordan toyed with her collar. “I’m not certain it even deserved a
correction, although your safety remains paramount.”
The condition of my heart is paramount, Master. Emily managed to nod, dropping her eyes to survey his
developed chest. His hands moved to cover her breasts, lifting their weight and
gently squeezing them, trailing his fingertips over her nipples. She rocked
against his cock and the smile she coveted lit up his face.
“Put me inside you.”
Levering upwards, she guided the wide head to her gate and
slowly, tantalizingly, took him into her body, relishing the way he stretched
her to capacity, until he bottomed out at her cervix. Pacing herself, she
raised and lowered over the stiff, thick length of him, occasionally swiveling
to grind against the hidden nerve laden patch high in the front of her sheath.
Lights sparked behind her eyes each time she made contact with that special
place and her cream flooded down around Jordan’s cock, creating that certain,
rich, fluid sound of sexual connection.
He continued to play with her breasts, tweaking the
nipples, sometimes to the point of pain, sometimes merely to sensitize her and
she slowly built to a pinnacle, yet was afraid for it to end. She thought she’d
lose whatever they had if she climaxed, that little death, and stared down at
him, tossing her hair out of the way. His face was strained with pleasure and
he met her eyes, his iris almost liquid chocolate with need. Her hips faltered
in their rhythm and he gripped her waist to turn with her, taking over their
congress, powering in and out with practiced thrusts. Her G-spot responded with
a vengeance and Emily went over, wrapping up her Dom within a desperate clutch
of her sheath, arms and legs. Jordan moaned his release into her shoulder and she spoke into
the ensuing silence, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“I love you.”
Rolling away, their combined fluids spilling out to coat
her thighs, Jordan flopped onto his back. He rubbed a hand across his face
and spoke the words she feared the most. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t love
anyone. I’m sorry.”
His rejection made her woozy, and pain splintered in a
radius around her heart. Maybe she’d chosen the wrong time to say it. But
there’d never be a right one. She clambered off the bed and hurried to the
attached bathroom, spying the sink through the open doorway. It took a few
minutes to clean up, but Jordan didn’t join her and she accepted he’d stated his case. She
didn’t plan to give him more time to mouth platitudes and remind her that love
was never in their arrangement. As if love could be dictated by a contract.
Entering the bedroom, she found her little pile of clothes
beside the robe he’d covered her in downstairs. With true Jordan thoroughness, no matter his obvious discomfort earlier,
he’d brought her outfit along with them, and she’d never been so grateful for
his dependability. Turning her back to him, she pulled them on quickly, as he
did what she feared—said and did things to squeeze her heart and rend it
further asunder. She rebuffed his offer of finding her another Dom, and then
regretted having an outburst about Olivia. Two for two.
The look on Jordan’s face when she challenged his feelings about Olivia told
her just how far she’d stepped over the line, and she decided to cut her
losses. She wasn’t sure how she’d cope, but he wasn’t her Dom any longer,
wasn’t meant to be in her life. She’d figure it out like she always had, and
she was a better person, a stronger woman after her time with him. Enough was
enough. Onward.
“Good bye, Jordan.” She slipped out the door and allowed it to shut quietly
behind her.
It wasn’t difficult to find the stairs and descend them,
hanging tightly to the railing for support, but once she was in the hallway,
she had no idea where she might go. It was as if Club Pleasure’s blueprint had
turned into a labyrinth in her brain, and she struggled to find the way out.
Casting her eyes left, then right, a familiar arch caught her attention and she
made her way in its direction. Her body didn’t seem to belong to her. It moved
sluggishly, without impetus and Emily realized it was because she’d left her
heart behind in that room. With Master Jordan.
Well, what had she expected, really? He’d been clear from
the start. No matter the way he’d caught her fleeing that second night and
enticed her inside, it had all been about training her, releasing her twisted
pain, and helping her establish herself. Not about a long term relationship.
Not about love. That in itself had initially been reassuring, and his honesty
had inspired her to take the chance, to become the someone she might have been
if not for the attentions of her uncle. Peeling all those horrible, confining
and blurring labels away without strings. Because she’d known better than to
lose her heart. So tell that particular organ the facts then—it had functioned
independently from her brain, and now resided in the unwelcoming grasp of Master
Jordan Sterling.
A sob tore up her throat and she swallowed against it. No
sense in dwelling on it. He had feelings for her—she believed he loved her, as
much as she understood that emotion, but for whatever reason, he lied to
himself. And that made him a coward. She didn’t have time for cowards, having
only just conquered that weakness herself. Laying it on the table, that famed
D/s honesty and communication, had only garnered her the pain of humiliation
and the agony of loss. Enough. Enough. Jordan’s edict, way back in
beginning resonated in her head and it straightened her shoulders, focused her
mind and gave her the strength to haul her empty self straight through the
Club, past the scene rooms, the meet and greet area and through the foyer.
Mallory passed over her little bag without comment, although the worry was
clear in her eyes.
She struggled with the heavy door, and Maurice was
instantly there, a concerned look on his face.
“You’re not driving. You’ll wait until I speak with your
Master.”
She tested her dissembling skills. “He knows I’m leaving,
Master Maurice. And he’s not my Master any longer by mutual accord. I’m
released. And now I’m running behind, Sir.” Making an airy gesture she smiled
widely, believing it to be true, and carried it off. So maybe her
maladaptive coping skills weren’t all bad after all.
Maurice narrowed his eyes on her, then gave an abrupt nod.
“You drive safe. No more speeding tickets.”
She managed a convincing laugh, squeezing out the humorous
reminder of that past costly ticket. “I won’t. Thank you.”
As she slipped past him and hurried down the steps, he
called out, “Maybe give Susan a call. She was saying how she’d like to connect
with you.”
Somehow, she kept her gait steady, and called back over her
shoulder. “I’d like that.” Not a lie, but no intention. Susan seemed a very
nice person, and she had to be special to be with Maurice, but Emily was done
with Club Pleasure and anything involving the place.
Her little car crouched in the lot under good lighting and
Maurice’s careful eye. She slid into the seat and stabbed the keys at the
ignition, missing the first time, the metal scraping along the steering post in
a grating sound that made her nerves thrum. But she succeeded on the second
attempt, and the engine turned over, thanks to the regular tune-ups Jordan had insisted on, and she threw it in gear, barely
remembering to pull out with decorum. She had her pride, after all, battered
once again, but maybe the only thing she had left from this debacle, and no way
was she giving Maurice a reason to follow up.
Eyes burning, but dry, she drove carefully and
steadily in the direction of her apartment, wondering how she was going to face
the future without Jordan in it.
BUY LINK: http://www.bookstrand.com/enough
WEBSITE: www.allysonyoung.com
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