The Jarrod Bancroft Series
Lizzie Ashworth
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
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With everything she cared
about gone, Dominatrix Macie Fitzgerald has built a new life in service to
those seeking pain and submission. She takes pride in her success. When she
accepts Jarrod Bancroft’s application to her next training session, she knows
he poses a risk to her fragile emotionless world.
Macie fears are confirmed
when she discovers that the ten years since he was her high school history
student have only made him more magnificent in every way. How long can she
resist him? What devastation awaits her if she can’t?
Life has been too easy for
Jarrod Bancroft—rich parents, football star, law degree, high powered job,
women by the score. Something is missing. He wants whatever Stonybrook Academy
can dish out, much as it scares the hell out of him.
Tied to the bed, his body
violated in every way, he faces his first night realizing he was right to be
afraid. He never imagined this torture and deprivation. And this woman, his
sadistic mistress—the voice behind her mask sounds familiar.
Macie faces her biggest
challenge as she struggles to fulfill her professional obligation to give
Jarrod what he wants, what he needs. But Jarrod soon discovers that Macie is
what he wants. What she doesn’t give, he takes—a risky venture when you’re a
sub. Defenseless against his potent
charm, Macie breaks every rule she’s made for herself. Heartbreak soon follows.
To complicate matters, a
legal hammer hangs over Jarrod’s head at Bancroft Investments threatening to
ruin his professional future. Sucked into his father’s illegal business mess,
Jarrod’s life takes an unexpected and life-threatening turn. Powerless as a
nightmare unfolds around him, Jarrod dreams of his queen, the only woman he
wants. But there’s nothing Macie can do for him now.
Told in three parts, the
story of Jarrod Bancroft weaves a web of denial and fear, dark family secrets,
and wealth at any cost. The lash of a whip is nothing compared to pain like
this. When pain feels like love, how does love feel?
Along
with romance, love, and erotic pleasures of a more traditional nature, this
work includes scenes of sadism, masochism, and sex acts involving multiple and
same-sex partners. For mature readers only.
Book I, A Gift for Jarrod, Excerpt
Jarrod had lost track of the changes underway
inside his mind and body. He reacted to light strangely, as if it brought the
comfort of food or a warm touch even when it was simply the removal of the
blindfold. He became accustomed to the loss of control of his body as he was
shackled to his bed at night, no longer pissed when he wanted, no longer held
his own penis to do so, no longer even shat without someone in attendance. He
ate like an animal off the plate they placed on the floor, food that was unrecognizable
although flavorful and evidently nourishing.
There were daily parades into rooms where
people waited, all of them masked. He stood with other naked submissives as the
masked people chatted, drank, nibbled on hors d’oeuvres, occasionally casting
their eyes in his direction, occasionally stroking his body and the cock that
strained in front of him. After a first few times of shivering humiliation and
terror, he took their glances, their touching, as reassurance. His worry that
they might know him, recognize, spread gossip about what they had seen, slowly
subsided into the greater submissive state of mind that fed his constant
arousal.
No longer questioning his decision to come
here, his thoughts now focused on the current situation, the moment in which he
existed, whether his attention was captured by the lash or the ever larger plug
in his anus, or the engorgement that plagued his genitals. The people who
serviced him had become objects of his affection—he wanted to kiss Sal who
nightly administered to his fracturing body, the woman who slipped her hand
over his cock each morning to help him piss.
Everything excited his
senses. He’d never felt so alive. Yet for all the arousal, he had not been
allowed to have another ejaculation. The need to release had slipped to the
background, no less urgent, no less achingly painful, but one of those things
he endured like he endured the beatings. He felt like a stringed instrument,
increasingly tuned to a finer and more exquisite tension, waiting for the right
moment, the right hand, that would turn him into a beautiful song.
Book II, Jarrod’s Valentine, Jarrod’s Spring Break, Excerpt
Fortunately, Macie’s attempt during those
weeks to leave the Academy’s day to day operation to Mark had not succeeded.
The man simply couldn’t multi-task. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking
anyway. It wasn’t just Chris pointing out her unique qualifications for her
role here. Without her hands in Academy business, she had too much time to
obsess about Jarrod. To indulge in him, savor him, memorize every inch of his
incredible body. To become utterly charmed by his sense of humor and his
goddamn quick mind. Christ! She
shifted in the chair. The simple memory of some of those moments—hours,
days—made her squirm. Her fervent hope, once she came back to her work, was
that Jarrod would lose his special place in her attention.
Well, that hadn’t worked out. So now, Dr.
Brandon and the torture of psychological analysis.
She stared blindly at the computer screen
where an applicant’s form waited her review. If she excelled at anything, it
was to pile up projects so deep that she had no fear of running out of things
to do. By all rights, Jarrod should occupy less than ten percent of her time.
No, he should occupy none of her time. The Academy should be front and center.
Enough.
In addition to overseeing the construction
roaring along outside, she was working through applications for the August
class, a promising array of men and women eager to learn more about this hidden
world. The current class was up for graduation in another week. They’d been a
relatively routine group, twenty students pursuing the finer points of
submission. Aside from pushing trainees through the harsh realities of their
chosen fetish, beginner classes heavily stressed the “do no harm” axiom that
served as the bedrock of any legitimate training course. So at least, however
they might muddle through their future efforts, she felt reasonably confident
no one would get hurt.
That was her job. Students paid for her
experience, her attention. Instead, they were getting fragments of her while
her attention kept disappearing into daydreams about Jarrod. Things had been a
hell of a lot simpler before he ever appeared on the Academy roster. What the
hell was she going to do?
Jarrod slipped in her office door silently and
placed the mug of steaming coffee at its exact spot on her desk, then stepped
back and waited. Her gaze raked over his form, the youthful flush on his skin,
the lean, perfectly developed muscle across his chest, shoulders, and arms, the
sinewy hands that had pleasured her so many times. She stifled a sigh as her
body responded instantly to his presence.
His silent request didn’t go unnoticed. He
knew better than to push too far, but he was pushing. She could feel him. Well,
she would definitely not reward him this morning.
Her stare slid down the rippled abs, tracking
the narrowing line of dark hair that trailed down from his belly button. She
let her glance linger on the purplish hue of his cockhead and licked her lips,
instantly aware of a hitch in his breath. He knew what a temptation he
presented and didn’t fail to take advantage. Not for the first time, her glance
at his compelling face found a disciplined submissive with only the tiniest
curl at the corner of his provocative mouth revealing the insolent rebel
lurking inside.
It was more than she could stand.
“Come around,” she motioned impatiently,
pointing to the side of her chair. Great.
Break your rules as fast as you make them. She was helpless around him. And
hopeless. Ridiculous.
He moved immediately to position and she knew
without looking that the curl at the corner of his mouth had grown slightly
larger. Ignoring the need to discipline his attitude, she yielded to her desire
and reached the tip of her tongue to the hot skin of his swollen glans. His
familiar musky scent swarmed through her nose as she licked the tight surface.
Gooseflesh erupted down her arms and her
energy clicked up a couple of notches. His body heat radiated against her
forehead. Nothing beat the taste of cock in the morning.
Book III, Day in Paradise, Homecoming, Excerpt
As the trainees lined up in small groups at
each of the tables, Macie turned to walk away. Her gaze landed squarely on
Jarrod who stood rigid in the doorway, his eyes snapping fire. Her breath
caught in her throat. She surveyed his lean frame, no longer thin, not haggard,
his muscled body instantly familiar in jeans and a white dress shirt with thin
blue stripes. The sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms. For a second, it
felt like nothing had changed and they would go home and tear off each other’s
clothes.
Damn, how could she forget the impact of his
heart-stopping good looks, his cocky stare? Her nipples bunched. A bolt of
electricity spiked down her belly. If he had given the slightest inclination,
she would have followed him to the nearest bed. Truly, she didn’t trust herself
to speak. Instead, she stood paralyzed, hoping yet dreading what he had to say.
“A word,” he said brusquely, cocking his head
toward the hallway.
She followed him, already positive that
whatever he came for, it wasn’t to reunite. On top of his natural predatory
grace, his body emanated an elevated level of tension. He didn’t wait for her
or make any effort to walk alongside her, and she followed nervously as he
marched along three steps ahead. They walked to the outside patio that opened
from her office, the entire distance a nightmare of worry, anticipation, and
blind hunger.
He stopped in the middle of the patio and
turned. His intense blue stare quickly surveyed their surroundings.
Construction noise echoed across the open field. In the distance, the tree line
hummed with summer insects and birdsong. Above, a few white clouds hung in a
deep azure sky.
His short black hair glistened in the sun and
a whiff of his scent penetrated her nostrils. Dear God, she didn’t know how she
lived without him. She wanted to press her lips against his, trail her kisses
down his neck, down his chest. Thread her fingers through his thick hair. Her
hands longed to hold his wide shoulders, caress his strong arms, pull his hips
against hers. The need for him strained like a tight cord between them so that
she had to steer herself to one of the chairs and sit with her hands gripping
the armrests in order to keep from touching him.
He made no effort to touch her.
He turned and sat across from her, leaning
forward with a dark expression. “Are you aware you’re under watch by the
F.B.I.?” he asked without prelude.
Until recently, sex scenes in most books erupted behind closed doors. I
hated that fade-to-black point in a story. Why has it been acceptable to
describe the details of violence, hate, fear, anger, and greed, but not the
up-close-and-personal descriptions of touch, desire, and love?I feel fortunate that modern sensibilities in publishing mean sex scenes now keep the bedroom door open. For those of us interested, stories can show readers the tingle of flesh and follow through to the heavy breathing and sweaty finish. It's about damn time.
I like to show a process in my stories where discovery or acknowledgment of sexual pleasure or desire is key to character development. Just like in real life. I believe sex can be a truly transformative experience.
Reading has been a passion in my life. My bachelor's degree as well as some graduate work focused on writing. Marriage, children, and a career limited my writing time for many years, but I'm back to life on my own terms now. So look out--more sexy stories on the way!
Find Lizzie at
the following places:
Facebook
Page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLizzieAshworth
Amazon Author
Page: http://www.amazon.com/Lizzie-Ashworth/e/B00DJWDJHC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_4?qid=1397236426&sr=8-4
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Thanks for nice introduction of Jarrod and Macie's story!
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