Here is another fabulous opportunity to read an excerpt from one of my many contributing erotic authors published stories, below is an excerpt from the book The Contract one of three books from The Nightlong Series by Sarah Michelle Lynch. It’s a wonderful opportunity to illustrate their own style of erotic writing that I am sure will whet your appetite to read more. Sarah Michelle Lynch has previously written HOT PINK for FrolicMe, below is her chosen excerpt from her book The Contract.  Full details of where you can purchase the full story are at the end.

SYNOPSIS from the book THE CONTRACT by Sarah Michelle Lynch

“Ciara and Dante have been in an arrangement for six years and what follows is the first time they actually have sex. He’s put her up in a house and he’s been paying her to regularly spank him in the dungeon beneath, too. He’s much older than her, but that’s not to say he isn’t wildly handsome or that she hasn’t wanted him before now. It’s just that Dante has many secrets, some more dangerous than others, and he’s been keeping Ciara at a distance, while also preventing her escape.

Ciara, now twenty-four, is determined to escape or force him to admit his feelings for her. She’s already tried to run away from him twice, but Dante is the sort of man inescapable, so it seems.

Ciara and Dante regularly engage in role reversal throughout the Nightlong Series and it’s sometimes never clear who’s in control. They share a unique and sexually charged love.

What follows is the beginning of a new chapter in Ciara’s life, one she never imagined for herself . . .“.

EXCERPT chosen by Sarah Michelle Lynch from her book THE CONTRACT


WHEN THE COLD LIGHT OF day greeted me the morning after, I almost regretted what I’d done the night before. Almost. I’d offered myself like a brazen slut but how else was I going to get anything done around here? I’d waited long enough.

No regrets aside, I woke groggy and in pain. I remembered calling out in agony a few times in the night, but Dante was always there to hush me before going back to his own bed.

“Dante?” I groaned, again sounding like I was in pain.

I was.

“I’m here, Ciara.”

I shifted and followed his voice to the chaise longue opposite the bed where he had obviously been sat watching me sleep. Gradually my vision cleared and he took my breath away, his slim, lithe form sharp as steel in a pristine charcoal suit.

“Where’d the suit come from?”

“Sexton delivered it this morning.”


I wrestled myself out of bed and walked to the en suite where I peed with the door closed.

“We’re meant to be in Paris today,” I said, raising my voice a little so he’d hear me above the echoes of what was hitting the pan.

Wearing just the pyjama top still I realised how ridiculous I looked and unbuttoned it, tossing it on my washing pile in the corner.

“I don’t think we should go,” he hollered through, “you need rest after cutting yourself open.”

Before I left the en suite I stood naked, and paused, contemplating my robe on the door hook. Instead of putting it on, I left the room and stood against the doorframe with my arm raised, hip knocking against the wood.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” I contested, when I was anything but fine.

I ached in ways I couldn’t even describe.

Ached deep down inside for the touch of him.

He covered his eyes. “Ciara, please.”

“Oh, come on. When you’re not here I roam naked all the time. Why should today be any different?”

He growled. “Because it’s inappropriate.”

Clearly, one of us was seeing things in the cold light-of-day sort of manner.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t got cameras in this place. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He spread some fingers open and saw I was still naked. “Put something on, Ciara!”

“No. Not until you admit you enjoyed last night.”

“I–” He stopped himself.

I snickered, shaking my head. “Dante Sinclair, lost for words. Can only mean one thing.”

“Yeah… what?”


“I hate it when you get like this.” He gazed out of the window, avoiding looking at me.

I stared at his profile, observing the wolf cloaked in sheep’s clothing, his frown one of deadly seriousness. Despite the anguish forever etched in his features, I adored his gorgeous, stunning face and strong chin, long nose, ears perfectly flat against his head. He was physical perfection but the rest of him – I worried about.

As my eyes strayed, I noticed the massive bulge in his trousers and slowly, I began sauntering over to where he sat.

“Ciara, no,” he warned, sensing I was drawing close.

“Hush,” I demanded, “I want you. Close your legs.”

I stood before him, but he refused to look at me, refused to close his legs.

“You don’t care about me at all, do you?”

“I care,” he growled, a hand muffling his voice as he tried to contain himself.

“You don’t love me?”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he said, his voice low.

“Close your legs or next time it’ll be you I cut open.”

His eyes shot to mine in panic, or shock, I wasn’t sure. I had his attention, at least. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I whispered softly, “Close your legs.”

He did as bade.

I reached out for his shoulders as I lowered onto him, straddling his lap, my shins sinking into the white leather of the chaise either side of his thighs. Getting comfy, I kept my eyes locked on his and slowly lifted my hands to his cool, clean-shaven cheeks.

“I hate you,” I said, every inch of me trembling, the cold light-of-day thing scaring me to death, “because… because I don’t really hate you, but you keep this invisible barrier up between us.”

Rigid as stone, he didn’t move to hold me or kiss me, my nakedness arousing but not inciting him to react. I had to reach out to him through words.

“I’m protecting you.”

“From what, Dante?”

“From me.”

I gulped down my terror. Was he some sort of psychopath?

Shaking my head, I remonstrated, “Bullshit.”

“I’m protecting you, I swear it.”

I took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing my lips to his. It was a soft, sweet kiss that I would remember forever. My whole being shook. His lips were full and softer than I ever imagined a man’s lips could be.

Panting as I pulled back, my hands shaking on his face, I kept my eyes closed.

“If you’re protecting me, then why does this hurt so much? Tell me.”

“You tell me, Ciara. You tell me.”

My eyes flew open when his warm fingertips touched my throat, his hands resting lightly around my neck. He stared into my eyes and I whispered, “I love you.”

He searched my face, seeking a lie. I put my hands over his and put them on my breasts. Tossing my head back, I moaned and mumbled, “Love me back, or let me go.”

“I should… get going. To work.”

The moment spoiled, I could hardly look at him. I turned my head to the side, my eyes firmly shut. I sat in his lap naked, utterly exposed and vulnerable, and all he could think about was work.

On a Saturday, too.

“I should go… I should,” he repeated, but then his lips kissed the thin skin of my chest, setting my heart on fire, “but the woman of my dreams just told me she loves me. So, I don’t think I have any choice in this matter, not anymore.”

My hands wandered into his hair, my eyes still closed. His soft, blond curls were weightless and yet irrepressible. He brought my lips to his and opened my mouth with his tongue, slowly teasing me.

I felt so sick with desire, I had to pull away to catch some deep breaths and consciousness came crashing back to me when he picked me up in his arms and carried me to bed.

I couldn’t breathe with his hot hands on my thighs, my bottom, my back. Hot breaths in my ear as he kissed my hair.

After laying me down, he stood by the side of the bed to undress and I watched as everything came off. Suit jacket. Waistcoat. Shirt. Tie.

“Wait, please,” I begged.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and unclasped his belt buckle for him, slipping his fly down.

I pulled his trousers and his boxers past his bulge and he toed off his shoes. Everything came off and he reached down to pull his socks off too. The section of his body I faced as I sat on the edge of the bed was the most glorious of all body parts on all bodies I’d ever seen. His narrow hips had that sharp V indentation and his solid erection pointed sky high in front of a mass of blond fur on his pubic bone, a thinner, shimmering trail leading up to his navel. My heart pounded, and I felt the same throb at my core. Reaching my hand out, I smoothed my palm along his length and cupped his balls gently. It seemed decadent of me to do it, but I brushed my thumb over his foreskin and licked away a pearl of juice he’d had there. I smiled with my eyes shut, savouring the earthy, salty taste of him.

“Beautiful,” I told him.

I stood and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, our bodies pressed together. We stared into one another’s eyes briefly before we shot together, arms tight, our mouths binding as one. He dug his hand into my hair and held my head in place, overpowering me with a joyful, triumphant kiss – his tongue dancing and tussling with mine.

He cupped my buttocks in his hands and lifted me, my legs wrapping around him instinctively.

“You ready for this?” he asked.


“Say, yes sir.”

“Yes, sir. Anything for you, sir.”

“I love you, Ciara. I think you’re magnificent.”

Breath was robbed from me so exquisitely, I could hardly breathe but I managed a cracked whisper of, “Thank you, sir.”

He walked us to bed and lay me down. I wanted him directly, but he instructed, “Patience will be rewarded. Now, arms above your head.”

I did as he told me and lay back in my messy sheets, wanting to apologise for them – but this wasn’t the time.

He lay by my side and stroked his fingertips up and down my body, slowly stoking pleasure in the deepest pits of my groin.

Light-headed beyond belief, I whispered, “Red.”

Dante had a safe word, Daltrey, but I didn’t have one. The only other thing I knew he would immediately understand was red.

He didn’t move from where he lay but he stopped stroking my body.

“Ciara?” He looked befuddled, but not offended.

I gulped and blinked through the haze of euphoria gripping me.

“I need to come, sir. Right now. I might pass out or die otherwise. My lower back burns and my core feels like it does when I’m having a wet dream.”

Eyes wide, he repeated, “A wet dream?”

“Girls get them too, especially when they’ve been starved so long. It’s when everything feels too tight and you explode into a zillion orgasms without any touch at all. It can be very painful if it gives you cramp. I’d rather you made me come before I get cramp.”

“I want to take this slow. I’m afraid, Ciara.”

“Afraid of what?” I begged, squeezing my eyes open and shut, trying to control my need.

I almost put my hands over my eyes, I couldn’t bear this!

“Well, I know you haven’t had sex in a long time.”

My eyes flickered open. “Had sex?”

“Been penetrated.”

“I’ve been penetrated recently and you don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child. I’ve watched orgies with you in Paris, remember? I’m not virginal and I don’t believe I’ll burn in hell for knowing about what goes where and how to put stuff to good use… you know?”

He almost growled. “Don’t get tart with me. Who penetrated you?”

“Permission to move?”


“To show you my penetration toys?”

He nodded slightly. I took that as a yes.

I reached into the bedside drawer and produced a sleek vibrator, a nine-inch dildo… and my rampant rabbit.

“What the fuck are these, Ciara?”

“Toys, sir.”

“I can see that. Why do you have them?”

I swallowed. “Please make me come and I’ll tell you.”

Panting, I squeezed my thighs together, trying to control the urge to rub myself to orgasm.

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” he grunted.

“I use them to get myself off while having thoughts of sir fucking me on the bed, in the shower, on the chaise longue, on the floor, the sofa, the kitchen island, the stairs, the dining table, the grass in the yard, the vault box in the dungeon… sir.”

He threw all the toys to the floor and growled, “I’ll deal with those later. You get a reward for telling me about the dirty things in your mind.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, sir.”

“Please, what?”

“That little orgasm I’d like… right now, please sir.”

He sank one finger into me with ease.

“Wet, velvet, heavenly silk,” he told me, “are you ready to come?”


He added another finger and leaned down to tongue my clit. I grabbed his hair for a moment, but he warned, “Above your head young lady.”

I did as bade.

His generous tongue flicked over my clit, juices flowing from me rapidly so that his ministrations sounded greedy. He grabbed my breast roughly in his hand, tweaking my stiff nipple so hard it hurt.

“Please, sir!”

He sucked me into his mouth and I thrust my hips up into his face, screaming when his fingers pumped in and out of me. I squeezed around his fingers rapidly, all my anxiety leaving me finally, a wave of relaxing rippling sensations washing over me.

“Oh god, Dante. I didn’t think anything could top last night.”

“Neither did I. We were both wrong.”

Before I had chance to recover he rolled me onto my stomach and kissed my butt cheeks, his hands grabbing and fisting my flesh. He kissed the dimples in my back and showed them his teeth too, scraping his incisors along my skin. I heard him beating off and wished I could watch but I could hardly even catch my breath, let alone move.

“Uh, Ciara!” he yelled and came all over my back.

Rubbing it into my skin, he groaned, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Thank you, sir. God sir, I love you, sir.”

“Keep saying sir and I’ll fuck you hard, Ciara.”

“Sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir…”

He spun me over onto my back and spread my legs with his knees. He was still rock hard. Pointing himself at my burning sex, he entered me with just his helmet tip.

“Yes,” I moaned, eager to feel the rest of him.

Dragging me by the thighs, he pulled me further down onto him and filled me.

“Yes… yes,” I moaned, my eyes shut, arms above my head. “Ohhhh yes.”

He pulled my calves over his shoulders and began fucking me so deep, I screamed. It was amazing, feeling so full, finally. Each drag of him inside me felt impossible, the give of my body against the size of him incredible. My every nerve on fire, I couldn’t imagine what my facial expression looked like to him, but he watched my eyes carefully, making sure he wasn’t really hurting me. At the same time, he slapped the side of my arse whenever my body left the bed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

My arse stung but I could take it. This was nothing compared to digging the scalpel inside myself last night. Did this man not know how strong and able I was?


He swapped hands and began striking the other side of my arse.

“YES! YES! YES!” My pelvis feasted on him, bearing down on him, but he bore down on me harder, pushing and forcing through the convulsions which made me scream the house down.

“Fuck, Ciara!! FUCK!” He came so hard inside me I felt it, jets of warm fluid milked from him to me. We’d waited so long for this… and it was all over in the blink of an eye.

He rolled off me towards the other side of the bed but only to cool down for a moment, I assumed. I hated us not touching.

I couldn’t catch my breath, neither could he.

After a while he pulled me gently into his arms and draped me over his chest. I kissed his heart and realised it was racing as fast as mine.

“I wish we’d done this ages ago.”

“I know,” he agreed, sorrow in his voice.

“Don’t go. It’ll hurt if you go. I need you. Please, Dante.”

He nodded. “I’m going nowhere.”


With one hand bunched in my hair and the other stroking my thigh, he murmured, “You are so beautiful, Ciara.”

“I’m not. Don’t say that.”

He rolled me to my side and held me close, staring into my eyes. “With the world at my feet, and with a dozen lives behind me already, don’t tell me I don’t know beauty when I see it.”

I shut my eyes, holding my breath, willing myself not to cry. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Sleep, then.”

While I lay there, he caressed my cheeks with his knuckles, his thumb rubbing my ear. I could barely keep it together. His thumb traced my bottom lip and he kissed me, barely nudging his mouth to mine, a whisper of a kiss.

“I’m tired.”

“I’m only admiring your beauty.”

“I can’t sleep until you leave me alone.”

“I’ll never leave you alone.”


“Because I love you. I always have.”

“Ah, my love.”

Heat in my chest stung me, right in the centre of my breastplate. Without even opening my eyes, I pulled him in closer, bringing his lips tight to mine. Resting his chest against my breast, I was almost crushed until he shifted his arms either side of my body to hold himself up over me. My hands felt for his arms, solid as steel. He was so lean, so powerful.

My breathing picked up again, but I managed to mumble, “I love calling you sir.”

He showered me in kisses; my lips, my clavicle, my throat, my chest, then my breasts. My nipples. I howled when he kissed those.

When he’d been kissing my mouth for so long I began to get breathless, I opened my eyes to look at him and his eyes were closed. I looked on in awe at this oak of a man, this lived-in body and soul. A body which showed signs of wear and tear but shone so bright. He caught me watching him and smiled, murmuring against my lips, “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You never are.”

“I’m meant to be exhausted.”

“I’m meant to be a total arsehole.”

“You still are.”

His chest swelled with laughter against mine and I lost my hands in his hair.

I slid my legs around his back and he began teasing himself at my entrance, the plush tip of his sex connecting with my clit.

“Dante, please.”

He nibbled my mouth, his eyes staring into mine.

“Remember… it is please, sir.”

“Why, sir,” I giggled, “shall we find out if the toys could do better.”

“No fucking way, Ciara.”


“Yes?” he huffed, impatient now.

“Permission to let my hands roam your gorgeous body.”

“Since you asked so nicely–”

He held himself at my opening and pushed inside once more. I knew it had been a good idea preparing myself for sex with big dildos otherwise this might have been very uncomfortable. This man had six years of leaving me constantly horny to catch up on and I wanted to know how on earth he was going to make it all up to me.

Digging my fingers into his shoulders, I lay leisurely beneath him, letting him lick at my skin, at my mouth, my breast. I pushed my fingers down his body, slick with sweat, and dug my hands into the butt of my dreams. So hard, tight, solid. Not meaty. Just solid. Like the rest of him. There was nothing whatsoever cuddly about Dante.

“You’re so wet, Ciara. Full of me, my cum… your cum. God, I love your tits.”

“I love your cock. Every inch.”

Grunting, his green eyes flashed yellow. “Close your legs. Make sure I don’t fall out.”

I did as he asked and when I was ready for him, he put his legs outside of mine and continued kissing me, using different pressure. Hard kisses to my lips were accompanied by nibbling and biting. Soft kisses to my cheeks and forehead. Wet kisses to my throat and breasts, French kisses to my nipples.

So tight between my legs, my slit so wet, he wasn’t deep, but he was hitting me in all the right ways.

Fisting his hair, my body slick against his, the scent of sex fermenting in my nostrils, I felt the thud-thud-thud of his big cock between my squished lips and growled, “Fuck being a gentleman.”

Within half a second, I was on my stomach and he lifted my bum slightly, piercing me with his cock in a much deeper, much more volatile way. Clutching the sheets in my hands, I screamed as he pounded me in the exact way I needed to be fucked.

Fuck him being a gentleman.

Fuck lovemaking.

“Yes, you want me Ciara?”

“More than anything.”

I had a hunger for this man which ran out of control the moment I realised he loved me.

His body over mine, hands on top of mine, our fingers tightened together and I yelled, “Please!”

He reached beneath me and swirled his fingers around my clit. I pushed back against him, grinding, trying to find more of him. More and more.

Panting, screeching, begging for mercy, I could hardly believe what I was feeling when I milked his cock so hard he fell out of me, crying, “Jesus Christ!”

He spurted cum all over my arse and I swear, I collapsed into the mattress ten centimetres deeper than I usually would. He collapsed partially on top of me, his cheek on my back.

“You’re forgiven, dear.”

“I never knew they contained that much cum.” His words came out almost strangled.

He spooned me, dragging me into a tight hold. Pressing kisses constantly to my neck, he repeatedly called me “baby” and put his hands all over me. “Thank you for letting me be a man again. I love you.”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

A few deep breaths… and I was asleep.


THE CONTRACT by Sarah Michelle Lynch is available from Amazon 

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