Body Worship 3: Satisfying Julia

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 7,300
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From Bestselling Erotic Romance and Erotica Author Erika Masten The Final Title In The Body Worship Series

Body Worship 3: Satisfying Julia An Explicit Erotic Short Story

When gentle Dom Kai Van Zant took painfully shy Julia as his body slave, he knew it would take careful coaxing to lure her out of her shell and into his sensual world of sexual submission. But harder than convincing her to move in with him, dragging her halfway around the world, and even breaking her fear of letting him breed her…is satisfying his little Julia now that she has blossomed.

Bonus Material: Includes excerpts from Weekend Submissive and Light Fae, Dark Fae: Supernatural Ménage A Trois by Erika Masten.

Warning: Explicit sexual content. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted in this story are 18 years of age or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.

Body Worship 3: Satisfying Julia
0 Ratings (0.0)

Body Worship 3: Satisfying Julia

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 7,300
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Excerpt

“Perfect timing,” he purrs to me in that exotic mixture of European tones that make up the Swiss accent, with the slight roughness of German softened by the rolling sensuality of French and even a hint of earthy Italian. “You always know what I need,” he adds between sips of wine, one hand caressing the gentle curve of my stomach. Then those gorgeous green eyes narrow. “Why are you wearing clothes?”

Kai prefers me naked in private, and I know this very well. I glance away coyly, sucking on the tip of one manicured nail, before meandering affectedly toward the cream leather couch positioned to look out over the city. I hide my smile until I’ve turned my back to Kai, but I still have to discipline my expression into a semblance of innocence before spinning to perch on the buttery soft leather cushion. The feeling of the smooth, slightly cool leather against my bare buttocks sends a gentle shudder through my shoulders and a gush of fluid through my primed pussy.

He has twisted about in his chair to watch me, and a knowing smirk hints at his amusement over my ruse. “I see. My body slave has her own needs on her mind.” I thrill inwardly when he stands, rising to his full height—6’3”—and stalks toward the sofa, his hips shifting smoothly, powerfully, thighs flexing under his perfectly tailored black pants.

Standing directly over me, Kai makes a show of ceremoniously unbuttoning his shirt front and cuffs, little by little revealing the sun-kissed, extremely athletic body that made him the focus of all my darkest fantasies long before I ever worked up the nerve to try flirting with him. It’s an effort not to reach out for him, not to rub my fingertips and my cheek along the deep contours of his abs and feel the warm firmness of his flesh.

I’m his body slave for a reason. Our sexual bond is not just about submission but also my absolute obsession with the power and form of his tall, muscled frame, paired with the effortless confidence and gentle domination that defines Kai. It’s about the addictive thrill I feel worshipping his erect brown nipples, thick cock, heavy balls—even his anus—with my fingertips and lips and tongue. It’s about the overwhelming bliss of all that strength and weight pinning me down, helpless, while Kai drives his hard dick balls-deep up my cunt and pumps his warm cum into me, claiming my deepest spaces—physically and emotionally—as his.

“You’re supposed to be naked for me, aren’t you, Julia?” he reminds me in an affectedly stern tone that threatens to break my façade into a guilty smile. Kai is anything but stern. Self-possessed, confident and relaxed in his mastery, patient—so patient, in fact, that his slightest sigh of frustration distresses me more than if someone else had yelled and cursed at me.

With my hands folded demurely at my clasped, bare knees, I regard Kai from under my lashes. “Yes, sir,” I answer, anticipation thickening my breath until it catches in my throat.

“Is there a reason you’re wearing a t-shirt?”

Yes, sir. But I don’t say so, just keep staring up, sucking hopefully on my lower lip. The smell of the man—musky and spicy from the hint of oriental cologne mixed with his natural body chemistry—sets me on edge, makes me want to drag him down on top of me to smother me under all that muscle and heat and musk. My pregnancy has heightened my sense of smell until I am enveloped by the sense of this man even when he is not with me, from a whiff of his jacket as I hang it in the closet or from the sheets when I change the bed linens.

Kai uses one foot to sweep mine apart, making me spread my legs. I swallow the catch in my sigh. The thin shirt, once pooled in my lap, now falls to conceal my shaved pussy. The tight ring of muscle at my wet entrance pulses and burns in want of penetration.

Those light green eyes rake the increasingly generous curves of my body. “I shouldn’t play this game with you, Julia. A submissive does not manipulate her Dom.”

Yet he knows, at least in little ways, we all do it. He has said as much. That, to some extent, the submissive is the true master. That there is more to a relationship like this than sex and handcuffs and calling someone sir. In exchange for my absolute adoration, my willing service, he is my keeper, my watcher, my guardian. He makes it his business to know my fears, my limits, the desires I would hide even from myself. My service is simple, straight-forward. His is a calling to care for the ultimate embodiment of love, his submissive.
Now, I hold my tongue and use my hands to tug down the tail of my t-shirt, pretending reluctance to expose my sex to his gaze…and his use.

Kai shakes his head and chuckles low and menacingly under his breath. “Oh, you are begging for punishment, aren’t you, my little Julia?” He moves over me, one hand threading into the hair at the back of my head to pull firmly, reining me, making me slide to one side and onto my back while his knees force my thighs wide. “I should make you scrub the floor on your hands and knees. That’s not the punishment you have in mind, is it?” he taunts, but he’s kneeling there above me and stripping off his shirt, baring the divinely defined biceps, pectorals, abs. We both know he’s going to give me what I want.

One large hand closes at the bottom of the V-neck on my flimsy t-shirt. “I should rip this off you,” he growls, and I can’t help arching my back in an unspoken plea that he do so, that Kai use the strength of his perfectly honed body to compel me, force me, take me.

I gasp and swallow down a moan when Kai’s hands rend the t-shirt down the middle. The sharp, quick tearing sound… The bite of the collar against the back of my neck as he nearly pulls me off the couch with the hard, upward jerk… The set of his jaw and the way his full, dusty rose lips curl back so slightly from his clenched teeth... The huff of his breath… My pussy quavers furiously, as though the inside of me would reach out pull him in deep.

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