The
Velvet Chair is Book One in a Dark Erotica Series called 'Velvet
Lies.'
Blurb
My
name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t
own, I’m working on.
Life
was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life,
demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for
blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so
for the time being I need to be his little lapdog.
I’ll
marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power
he can handle... for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You
see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I
give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down
for her legal counsel.
Excerpt
– Jennifer
My
hands were visibly shaking. Flexing my fingers repeatedly, I tried to
still the tremors, but they were not to be subdued. It was hardly
surprising. Today was the day I walked up the aisle and married… a
monster. I was under no illusions that Mark Matthews would forgive me
for what had happened, and I could hardly blame him. He’d been
manipulated and sexually tortured until he could take no more, and
then he’d been neatly cornered. He might have agreed to my father’s
demands, but he’d come snapping and biting, feral as a wolf.
I
sighed. Today was supposed to be a magical day – every little
girl’s fantasy. A gigantic cathedral, a sea of flowers, a big fancy
dress, and the man of my dreams. I’d imagined it would be filled
with tears of happiness and protestations of love. How stupid was I?
Inhaling
a shaky breath, I wondered what Mark would do with me. Having always
been the sacrificial lamb in this family, today I was being sent off
to the slaughterhouse. When I’d mentioned this to Michael, I’d
refused to call him ‘Dad’ a long time ago, he’d laughed and
told me to stop being so melodramatic. As if that made me feel any
better. Dear old Dad couldn’t care less whether I lived or died, so
I didn’t waste my breath trying to plead with him. All I had to do
was play my part in this charade and he would be happy. I needed
to keep Michael happy at all costs. The trouble was, in order to play
my part, Matthews had to trust me, and I had a feeling that trying to
coax that emotion out of him was going to be almost as impossible as
trying to convince the Queen of England to relinquish her throne.
Matthews wasn’t the sort to trust easily, and now that I had lost
what little ground I had gained with him, I would be back to square
one. Wrong, I thought grimly. I was going to be at least twenty
stories below square one, trying to claw my way out with nothing more
than my bare fingernails. Facing up to facts, I stifled a sob. The
man was going to annihilate me.
Excerpt
– Mark
As
we pulled out of the Savoy’s car park, Jennifer was a mess. I had
little sympathy for her. Each heartbeat that tore through my chest
was full of fire, which spat sparks and burned like acid. I was
sitting next to a traitor. My body throbbed with emotion, and not the
good kind.
I
had to admit the dress she’d changed into, just a tiny part of the
massive trousseau that was now being shipped to my estate, was rather
distracting. It was designed in a glistening oyster silk that caught
the light every time she moved. It was seductive enough without the
two splits that ran up the side of her thighs, and when she’d
seated herself in my car, revealing a vast expanse of soft creamy
flesh, my blood pressure had taken a direct hit.
My
temper was already simmering in a large saucepan full of resentment,
but that turned up the heat considerably. I did not want to be
attracted to Redcliff’s daughter. I wanted to abhor her with all
that was holy. Desire would weaken my anger, and that must not be
allowed to happen. I needed to have a stern talk with my overactive
libido and let it know who was boss around these parts.
Little
did Miss Redcliff know, but she wouldn’t be requiring clothes for
the duration of her stay. I would thoughtfully be providing her with
all sorts of novel uniforms, and when she began to bore me, she could
just go around naked. I’d decided to train her up to be a sex slave
extraordinaire, and it was going to be an exacting and rigorous
process. She’d be allowed six hours of sleep a day, and the rest of
her hours would be accounted for. Cooking, cleaning, ironing,
servicing me, pleasing me, attending to her own personal fitness
regime, and some more ‘standard’ training sessions.
Failure
to comply with her new routine would produce punishments the likes of
which she had never experienced. After her first misdemeanour had
been dealt with, I didn’t think there would be many more. I was in
bastard-mode, and the girl was going to know about it. She had just
become my property and I would deal with her however I saw fit. The
mark of my ownership would be indelibly printed on her soul by the
time I’d finished with her. The damn woman was going to fear the
sound of my footsteps, her body would shrink away from me every time
I approached her and she would learn to obey my every whisper or
suffer the consequences.
My
lawyer had already drawn up two sets of papers, one for an annulment
and the others pertained to our divorce. It would probably take all
the fun out of the arrangement if Jennifer opted for an annulment, so
I didn’t intend to scare her witless in the first few days, but I
fully expected the divorce papers to be completed inside of a week. I
just needed to push the woman to her absolute limit, and then smash
her body into the next dimension. If there was one thing I was good
at, it was psychological and physical torture. Okay, so that might be
two things. In any case, I’d get those papers signed, sealed, and
delivered back to Michael Redcliff before the week was out. Piece of
cake.
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A
little bit about C.P. Mandara:
Christina
Mandara is a USA TODAY bestselling author and tends to write dark
romance with lashings of kinky naughtiness. Her favourite pastime is
travelling, and if it involves sun, sea and… sand then it’s all
good.
In
her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring
the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her
kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being
tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more
often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of
romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.
She's
a big fan of BDSM in all of its glorious forms, and her favourite
item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her
riding crop.
Amazon
Author Page: http://author.to/CPMandara
All I can say is that I have just uploaded this
Gotta love Christina
Love and stuff
Scarlett
xXx
