Indecent Intent

Bethany Amber

Description

Gabrielle Turner, a poor but gorgeous redhead with eyes the colour of the Caribbean, is on a short trip to Las Vegas from her trailer home in Florida, the trip paid for by her husband, Tom, having enjoyed an infrequent stroke of luck in a card game. Indecently rich Marshall Verity propositions the couple and interests Tom in one of his lovely girls, and takes the opportunity to buy Gabrielle and spirit her away to his mansion home, where her life changes to one of utter luxury - but at a price! Tiring of Verity's version of love in which she must be entirely submissive and willing to be humiliated at every opportunity, Gabrielle decides to end it all and jumps from the side of his luxury yacht, upon which she had been displayed like a trophy to Verity's clients. Rescued by a beach bum off Key West, Gabrielle realises for certain that she hates Verity, but when he, Tom, and Robbie, the beach bum, play cards for her, who will win?

Sujets

• Erotic literature
• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 05 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9781783335442
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
Indecent Intent

By
Bethany Amber



Publisher Information
Indecent Intent - published in 2014
by House of Erotica
www.houseoferoticabooks.com
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 © Bethany Amber 2014
The right of Bethany Amber to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.



Introduction
‘You... you must punish me, master.’
‘And how should I punish you?’
Susan nibbled her lower lip anxiously, despite her excitement again bubbling tantalizingly. ‘You, you should spank me, master.’
Verity smiled above her, gazing down at the beautiful form draped submissively over his lap. He enjoyed the feel of his penis growing inside his trousers, pressing up against her tummy. ‘Very good, my dear; you are right. I should, and I will, spank you.’
‘Please...’ murmured the prone girl, instinctively clenching her buttocks a little in anticipation of the coming onslaught. ‘I deserve it, master.’
Verity stroked her silky smooth bottom a little longer, then his expression became severe again, he raised his hand and paused, watching her tense and hold her breath, making her wait...



Chapter One
‘Ouch!’ Gabrielle Turner pouted her full lips and sucked the fingers of her right hand, her brow furrowed sulkily. Her long red hair swayed about her oval face, shimmering in the blaze of electric light. Her breasts heaved within her tight T-shirt and her nipples became hard and their outline plainly visible through the straining white material as a sharp pain shot through her young body.
The sounds of Las Vegas were all around them; the electronic sounds of the slot machines, the occasional clatter of a winner’s coins spilling into the collecting tray, the whirring as handles were pulled in the hope of a jackpot.
‘Oh, man!’ exclaimed Tom, her husband, grinning - oblivious for the time being of his surroundings, and concentrating only on his beautiful wife. He swung her into his arms and whispered in her ear. ‘That was so sexy - the way you slipped your fingers between your lips. Push them in and out like you were sucking my raging cock. Go on, do it!’ he urged.
Gabrielle smiled, her green eyes becoming heavy. ‘Later,’ she said, and placed her fingers between her lips once more. ‘I got stung... it hurt .’ She looked at her fingers, frowning. ‘What was it?’
Tom released her and ran to the bottom of the short flight of carpeted steps that led directly into the casino, and held out a hand to his wife.
‘Static electricity, I guess,’ he explained. ‘Vegas is the most electric, the most exciting town in the whole of the States.’
Gabrielle walked down the stairs and, keeping her fingers well away from the brass handrail, placed her hand in his. ‘I’m not sure I like such painful excitement,’ she said warily.
‘You little liar,’ he teased. ‘You love it, and you know you do.’
‘I don’t like being stung by a piece of metal,’ she argued.
‘But you like being stung by the strap,’ he whispered, ‘across your bare bottom until your skin burns and you beg me to fuck you.’ His ice-blue eyes sparkled enthusiastically as he looked into hers, but then his gaze drifted across the noisy room and he didn’t listen to her reply, but instead listened to the clatter and jingle of the countless fruit machines.
‘Are we checking in?’ asked Gabrielle, not for the first time, but she couldn’t gain his attention until she pressed her shapely body against his and surreptitiously slid a hand between them, rubbing his cock to swift erection in his tight and very confining jeans.
‘You little whore,’ he hissed, but she smiled and gently writhed against him until he had to take her in his arms and give her a long and passionate kiss. They remained locked together until Tom could be sure he looked a little more decent, then he laughed and flung his arm round Gabrielle’s slim shoulders and they were able to walk side by side, because he had regained control of his body and emotions.
‘My gorgeous little whore.’ It wasn’t an insult, but simply a pet name he called her in their more intimate moments. ‘My sweet little tramp.’ He brushed a kiss on the lobe of her ear. ‘I guess you’re right about checking into our room, and then we can have us some fun, and...’
Holding hands they walked towards the registration desk, their eyes flashing secret messages to each other as they made their way through the crowded casino. The denim jeans she wore were also tight, cutting between her plump sex lips, not that she minded feeling or even being confined, she thought with a wry smile. ‘And what?’ she teased.
‘Depends on the bed,’ he said, his voice low with lust.
She swayed against him, brushing her nipples against his broad chest, bringing them once more to eager erection.
‘Your cases are in your room, Mr Turner.’
The voice cut through the hubbub of the casino and interrupted their next lingering kiss, and Gabrielle swooned with arousal and her weak legs might have failed her had Tom not kept a strong arm around her waist.
‘Oh yeah, right,’ he said, and Gabrielle smiled as she saw a crimson stain darken his cheeks. ‘Yeah, right,’ he repeated, and pressed a crisp five-dollar bill into the bellhop’s hand.
‘I guess they don’t like us making love in their casino,’ he said to her under his breath, as they followed the bellboy to the front desk.
‘We weren’t making love,’ said Gabrielle, staring enviously at an elegantly dressed female, no more than her own age, who smiled up at a distinguished looking man as they walked confidently to the elevators.
‘Almost,’ corrected Tom, signing the registration card that one of the girls on the front desk pushed towards him. She had a beaming smile that showed a set of the most perfect teeth Gabrielle had ever seen.
Were all the girls in Las Vegas, she wondered, potential showgirls? She suddenly felt dowdy.
‘Okay, let’s go,’ said Tom, guiding her with a light pressure on her elbow to the bank of elevators.
Gabrielle hoped they didn’t bump into the distinguished man or the elegant girl as they went up to their room. It was all so smart, so well groomed and luxurious; all so different to their normal lifestyle.
The elevator pinged as it arrived and the doors whispered open to allow them to enter. ‘We’re on the top floor,’ said Tom. ‘The thirty-sixth... near the wedding chapel.’ He held her to him again, caressing the pale sweep of her neck with the tip of his tongue and she shuddered against him, feeling his hardness. ‘The bridal suite was taken,’ he told her, running his fingers through the mass of red-gold curls that swept her shoulders.
‘Oh, Tom,’ she murmured, her own voice husky with desire for him. ‘How can we afford all this?’
The elevator pinged again and the doors slid open to reveal three long sweeps of richly carpeted corridor. Displays of fresh exotic flowers, much out of season, exploded in brilliant colour against the muted paleness of the walls.
‘I told you,’ said Tom. ‘I won at craps... big bucks.’
Gabrielle followed him, aware that her sneakers looked somewhat out of place on the deep pile carpet. ‘But how much?’ she asked not for the first time.
He swiped the plastic card, the key of their room, into the door lock slot and held it open for her with a flourish. ‘How much doesn’t matter, honey,’ he assured her. ‘Big bucks are the only thing that matter, and I won a pile.’
Gabrielle gasped as she walked over to the floor to ceiling window. ‘The Strip,’ she whispered in awe. Dusk was just falling and the lights were coming on, the billions of lights that lit up the Nevada desert. Far below her was the volcano that fronted the Mirage next door. Across the street were the new Venezia and only a few yards beyond that was the fabulous Caesar’s Palace . ‘We’re here, Tom,’ she whispered. ‘We’re actually here, and I love it.’
‘I knew you would, honey,’ he smiled, and then pulled her to him, in a movement which, done by anyone else, would have been too rough. The T-shirt was pulled over her head and twisted around her wrists, rendering her arms helpless. She smiled and hooded her eyes, encouraging him, swaying her bare breasts against his sweatshirt. The pain in her tight pink nipples was exquisite and there was a heavy weight in her flat belly and a liquid melting in her sex.
‘Bedposts,’ he murmured, glancing towards the huge four-poster that dominated the room. ‘A real colonial style bed.’
‘Hm,’ she pondered, brushing her full lips against his, ‘just like we’ve always wanted.’
He pushed her across the room and flung her on the bed, unzipping her jeans at the same time. She was giggling like a teenager. ‘Maybe this weekend we’ll win enough to live in a condo or even a house,’ he said huskily. He threw her sneakers across the dusky pink carpet and tugged her jeans down her slender legs.
The giggles faded and she began to struggle against him. ‘Not more gambling?’ she pleaded.
He tore the T-shirt from her wrists and pressed one trim arm hard against one of the bedposts. In the same easy movement he pulled a length of cord from his pocket, snaking it round her wrist and tying it to the oak post. ‘Sure, why else come to Vegas?’ he said, a frown making him look older than his twenty-five years, but in a few mo