Pride and Punishment
80 pages
English

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80 pages
English

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Description

Amy Swallow, young, talented and beautiful is the leading light of London's liberal journalism but her personal life has suffered and she seeks solace in unsatisfying promiscuity. When she spots Alexander Broadmoor, the handsome and enigmatic cabinet minister, and poster boy for the establishment she is determined to destroy him. His dark secret that she begins to uncover is his ultimate weakness and she knows it but Amy has more than met her match in the aristocratic politician. They begin to battle for supremacy over the other, blurring the lines of love and hatred, pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy. It is a battle that could destroy them both, and yet may be their salvation.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 17 juin 2014
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781783332205
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Title Page
Pride and Punishment
by Holly Cartwright




Publisher Information
Published in 2013
by House of Erotica - an imprint of Andrews UK
www.houseoferoticabooks.com.com
New authors welcome
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © House of Erotica 2013
The right of the authors to be identified as authors of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78



Amy Swallow
“I want to be interviewing that stuck up asshole by the end of the week. You make that happen or you get yourself another job. Understood?”
Amy Swallow, head of investigative journalism at The Daily Monitor, a thriving London broadsheet, was addressing her team in the paper’s conference room. Five people sat at the table looking nervous as she paced powerfully at the front of the room. She was a young woman with a terrifying and ruthless determination.
“Understood?” she shouted at them again.
“Yes, Miss Swallow. Understood,” was the cowered reply.
Amy Swallow was younger than every person who was in that room, just twenty-five. She was considerably less-experienced in the journalism profession, but she was feared by them all. Amy was tall and gently curved around her hips and behind and had an impressively ample chest that sat up pert and demanded attention. She had an undeniably beautiful face, sharp featured and high cheek boned and angular in a way that gave her a slightly aggressive look. She had long blonde hair that she straightened with a zeal for perfection.
“I want Alexander Broadmoor on a plate. I want to know if he’s got the balls to take on the highest profile journalist in London today. I want to know if he’s got the balls to go toe to toe with me. He won’t want to do it. He’ll be scared to take it on. But if he’s as ambitious as people say he is, if he really is the latest rising political star, then he won’t be able to resist the big spread, the exposure that he knows I will give him. So get him for me. Tempt him with everything I am, everything I can offer him. Seduce that aristocratic throw back. Appeal to his desire to be Prime Minister. But get him for me and let me rip through him.”
Those present nodded and scribbled down notes. The worried looks on their faces suggested that this task might be too much. They knew more about Alexander Broadmoor than she did, and getting that interview wouldn’t be achieved by flattering him, or appealing to ambition. He was a sight more complicated than that.
“What do we know about him?” she asked. “What have you got for me?”
“Thirty-five, aristocratic family,” said one of the women present.
“Not good enough,” Amy replied. “Come on. I want more.”
“The bright young star of the Conservative government, promoted into the cabinet seemingly having done little to warrant the position,” said one of the men present.
“Better,” said Amy. “More.”
“Etonian, Oxfordian -”
“Oxonian,” Amy corrected.
“Into parliament almost as a right of birth given his family. Some people accuse him of arrogance.”
“Naturally. What else?”
“Minister of Foreign Affairs. A steady cabinet role,” said another. “Probably indicates he’s being groomed by the Conservative top brass for the future.”
“I want more.”
“Limited accounts of him from friends or associates. Never been profiled personally in the press. Unknown quantity.”
“And?”
“Last Minister in that role sacked for drunkenness. Perhaps Conservative elite see him as someone who can sit down and say nothing? A poster boy, a good face, to sit on the front bench. But trusted to not bring any negative headlines? Perhaps.”
The last comment came from Dylan, a thirty year old journalist and the newest member of Amy Swallow’s support team.
She was glaring at him.
“You’re just giving me guess work. It’s bullshit. I need to know about this fucker. I don’t want to know what you think he might be like. Fuck me, Dylan. Did you really just say that shit?”
He hesitated. Looking around at the others for support he found nothing. His voice wavering, he said, “I thought we were bouncing ideas around, you know, brain storming and stuff.”
“I don’t do brain storming and stuff, Dylan. I do facts. I do the best fucking investigative journalism in the world and the best fucking features this paper has ever seen. I haven’t got time for your fucking wandering mind.”
“Sorry.”
“Everyone get the fuck out,” she said. “And get me that fucking interview.”
Her team stood up and left quickly, everyone happy to get out of that oppressive atmosphere of intimidation and searing pressure.
Amy spoke up. “Dylan, wait back,” she said.
Dylan did as instructed.
“Shut the door.”
He did as instructed.
“Lock it and shut the blinds.”
He did as instructed.
“Look,” he said “I’m sorry about that. The other teams I’ve worked in we put theories forward. I know what you want now.”
“You clearly don’t know what I want,” she said. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about all that. Now come here and lick me.”
Dylan stood motionless, his mouth open, his face incredulous. Did he just hear her right? Did she just say “lick me”?
Amy sat back on the desk, hitched her skirt up and pulled her thin black panties down stepping out of them and leaving them crumpled on the floor as she widened her stance.
Dylan remained motionless, shocked and petrified.
“Get between my legs and lick my pussy before I change my mind.”
Dylan looked at the exposed thighs and shaven flesh between Amy’s legs, with the soft pink lips perfectly formed and realised this was too good an opportunity to pass up on. Amy Swallow was a stunning young woman who he had masturbated over more than once since starting work with her. And now she was inviting him to lick her beautiful pussy. Fuck, what was he waiting for?
He walked over to her, knelt between her legs and started to kiss up the flesh of her thighs.
“Oh, come on man,” she said. “Let’s get to the pussy for fuck’s sake.” And she grabbed his head and pulled it into her pink flesh then lent back and started to grope over her large breasts.
He licked over her pussy with real enthusiasm now, using his fingers to part her lips and expose her clit and sucking at it and, at the same time, sliding a finger into her tight hole and fingering up towards her g-spot. His tongue flicked in and out of her hole and then back up to flick over her clit. He was enjoying the taste of her, perfumed almost, so clean and smooth and perfect.
“Oh, yeah, you fucker. Lick my pussy. Lick it like you love it. Come on, show me you love it.”
Amy opened up her top and pulled one of her large breasts from her bra and started playing with her nipple, pulling it up to her mouth and licking over it and squeezing at it hard, enjoying that dull pain that seemed to vibrate through her breasts as much as that rampant tongue over her clit.
Dylan looked up at her playing with her beautiful tits and felt his dick get achingly hard. He was desperate to get his hand onto his cock and start playing with it. He was so turned on that his body begged for it but he didn’t dare to take the chance with her as he couldn’t tell how she would react to it.
“Oh, Dylan, now you’re getting there. Go on, suck on my clit as hard as you can. Really suck it you dirty fucker. Stick your fingers up inside me.”
He did as instructed. She had her hand down between her legs now and was pulling her flesh open for him to get right in at her swollen clit.
“That’s fucking good. You lick pussy really fucking good. Now get up here and fuck me.”
He looked up at her and again hesitated.
“Get up here and fuck me. For Christ’s sake. A girl shouldn’t ever need to say that twice?”
He jumped up and immediately started to undo his trousers. She sat up and helped him slide down his boxer shorts and she took hold of his hard, throbbing cock and gave it a couple of playful tugs before leaning back and lifting her legs up so the her feet were on the table, her knees up high and spread wide.
“Come on. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
He did not need to be asked another time. He was so hot and hard and consumed by his desires, his fire fuelled by that beautiful pussy of hers, like none he had ever known, so perfectly formed and smooth and tasting so fucking good, that he could feel the urge to come like water boiling and bubbling inside him, building up pressure that was going to have him coming with astonishing force. He looked her over once more, stunningly beautiful, intimidatingly so, and incredibly hot with her big full tits out of her blouse and her legs spread wide with her sweet pussy inviting him into her. Oh, fuck, this was too much he thought to himself.
She took hold of his cock and guided him into her hole. He was a good size, nice and thick, so that she could feel the strain on her sex in that first instance as he pushed into her. It was quite tight and there was plenty of resistance but she encouraged him on.
“Push it in. Push it in hard. Come on, baby, fuck that dick inside me.”
He did as asked. Gripping onto her thighs he pulled himself into her so that his entire length slid past the tightness and deep into her warm, wonderful sex. His face immediately revealed the intense sensation of pleasure that was washing over him from that simple act of entering her. He looked wa

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