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As part of the British peerage, Jordan Graystone knows what it’s like to live in the public eye. Which is why he holds hard limits when it comes to scening with submissives—no kissing, no penetration. Both lead to unwanted emotions and women attempting to take more than he’s willing to give.
Entrusted with the care of raising her younger sister is a responsibility Natalie Perez doesn’t take lightly. She focuses solely on her troubled ward, putting aside her own desires even when confronted with the temptation Jordan promises—fulfilling her fantasies to be bound and worshiped upon an old church’s altar.
Secretly snapping a photo ends in a confrontation that arouses Natalie to the point of turmoil—and Jordan past the point of caring about limits. He’s determined to give Natalie the release she needs, but her obligation threatens to rip apart his plans for more than their agreed upon one night.
Will Natalie’s selfless dedication to her sister be the key to bind her and Jordan together or the fault that tears them apart?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
Copyright © 2019 by Lynn Burke
All rights reserved.
Editor: Avril Stepowski
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author.
Visit my website at authorlynnburke.com
As part of the British peerage, Jordan Graystone knows what it’s like to live in the public eye. Which is why he holds hard limits when it comes to scening with submissives—no kissing, no penetration. Both lead to unwanted emotions and women attempting to take more than he’s willing to give.
Entrusted with the care of raising her younger sister is a responsibility Natalie Perez doesn’t take lightly. She focuses solely on her troubled ward, putting aside her own desires even when confronted with the temptation Jordan promises—fulfilling her fantasies to be bound and worshiped upon an old church’s altar.
Secretly snapping a photo ends in a confrontation that arouses Natalie to the point of turmoil—and Jordan past the point of caring about limits. He’s determined to give Natalie the release she needs, but her obligation threatens to rip apart his plans for more than their agreed upon one night.
Will Natalie’s selfless dedication to her sister be the key to bind her and Jordan together or the fault that tears them apart?
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Bonus Material
About the Author
Also By Lynn Burke
I rubbed a hand over my face and squeezed the bridge of my nose. Eyes closed and elbow propped on my desk, I considered the absolute stupidity of our newest client and his inability to put his livelihood—and clients’ privacy—first.
His IT system had been attacked, data breached, and customer information stolen. The man had a mess on his hands, and all because of his procrastination over getting JAG Security’s customized package put into place.
Our team had worked their asses off putting together what he needed to protect his business, his reputation, but his last minute, unplanned vacation with his mistress excuse put those plans on hold.
He returned to the U.S., his ignorant wife and customers pulling their investments faster than a woman’s panted “Please” could twitch my cock.
The thought of a sub tied up and begging shifted my focus to the weekend ahead, the sure release I would find at my best friend’s place of worship. While small, the church within walking distance of his estate in New Hampshire had been redecorated and outfitted as the perfect BDSM lair. A private club set up by Adam and his wife with only a handful of close friends invited to play.
While Boston offered an array of clubs for kink-minded people like myself, growing up in the public eye as part of an old family in the British peerage meant I couldn’t scene wherever and whenever I wished.
Adam’s church provided what I needed for stress relief—and it had been too damn long.
Tension rode my shoulders. Twisted my insides.
My office door flew open, jerking my focus up. A woman rushed in, stick-thin and face painted to the point of grotesque to my way of thinking. Breathless, she caught sight of me and pulled up, shifting her stance as though to entice what she could never possibly stir to life in me.
I glanced beyond her, to my gaping door, wondering how the fuck she’d gotten past security.
“Are the rumors true, Lord Graystone?” she asked with a husky tone, pulling my focus back to her blood-red lips. She slipped one of her dress’s straps down over her shoulder and sauntered forward, her fake, heaving breasts ineffective in luring me in. “I would give anything to be bound for you. Let me be your lady—just for tonight. I promise to obey. I promise to please.”
A goddamn psycho, she’d had her head fed full of bullshit by tabloids and social media of which I didn’t personally take any part. I didn’t bother addressing her mistitling me—and I sure as fuck wasn’t in need of a Lady.
I pressed a button on my interoffice phone and quickly returned my focus on the woman approaching me. The tight, silken sheath she’d worn as a dress revealed hardened nipples and an obvious lack of panty lines. If she intended me harm, it wouldn’t arrive by way of a weapon.
“Janelle,” I said, the second my secretary answered my summons, “DND.”
She didn’t answer to my coded message, and I stood taller, looking down my nose at the woman who had dared to approach me in such a manner.
“Stop.”
She obeyed without a word, pulling up a dozen steps short of my desk like a good little sub wanting to please her Sir.
“Slip off the other strap,” I murmured the command as though I wanted to see her breasts spill from the dress slipping to her waist.
My head of security appeared in the opened doorway behind her, his footfalls silent, but I didn’t move my focus off the woman.
“Fold your arms behind your back and stick those breasts out for me—yes, just like that—”
Her moan turned into a gasp as the head of my security grabbed her arms. A mere blink, and he had her face down on the carpeted floor and cuffed.
“Get her out of my sight and call Sergeant Timmons.” I sat and exhaled a heavy breath as he dragged the woman from the room, her pleadings about only wanting to please me falling on deaf ears.
I needed a goddamn break. From work. From the results of living my entire life in the public eye. Not for the first time, I wished I’d been born a commoner rather than the son of a Lord, although my family’s money and that which I’d made since co-founding JAG with my two best friends would keep me in the limelight.
“Janelle!” I called out while shutting down my laptop for the night even though I expected to be in the office for a few more hours.
“Sir?” She peered around the still-opened doorway as though she’d been hovering for the show—exactly as I’d expected.
“Reschedule the helicopter for seven.”
“Right away, sir.”
Stretching my neck side to side, I wondered how much more shit would land on my desk before I could escape for my long weekend away from reality.
“So, why work?” my pilot and friend, Brock Charran asked through the noise-cancelling headphones.
Eyes closed and head tipped back against the leather seat of the twin engine turbine helicopter he called Betsy, I didn’t have to think in order to answer his question. “I have nothing better to do.”
He snorted a laugh. “Spend a month on that goddamn yacht you bought last year. Travel the fucking world—see it all.”
“Been there, done that,” I repeated his signature line. The man had travelled the world, explored where most sane men wouldn’t venture, returning home with frost bite and skin chapped by wind and sun alike.
“Get yourself a wife and kids—that’ll keep you busy,” he said.
“As it would you,” I retorted, the beginnings of a rare smirk tilting my lips.
“Not the life for me,” he muttered.
I couldn’t agree more. I enjoyed my work as one of the CEO’s of our cybersecurity firm, but even more, I enjoyed my freedom, my privacy. I’d tried my luck with women in the past, but every damn one had aspirations of their own—beyond submitting to me.
Fame and fortune drew selfish women, and I’d had my fill of those looking for monetary benefits and social status. While thoughts of a woman truly needing me intrigued the hell out of me, I’d learned no such woman existed.
A bachelor’s life for me, made even easier by my father selling off the family estate across the pond. No more need for heirs to inherit what had been in our family for hundreds of years.
He and my mother had retired to Greece, leaving me free to make my own life in the way I saw fit. When Adam had come to me with plans to start up a new company, I had jumped at the chance to invest and help oversee it.
The third CEO of JAG would also be in attendance at Adam’s estate, and I looked forward to a debauched-filled weekend like the ones we’d enjoyed while in college together. Adam had since married the woman intended for his own father, a blonde beauty who worshiped the ground he walked on, one who also enjoyed being on display if her Sir requested.
As usual, though, Adam would have contracted a couple other women for the weekend, submissives hired only after thorough background and medical checks, along with a contract of limits and non-disclosure agreements.
My cock took interest, swelling in my trousers at the thought of binding a woman to Adam’s altar and relieving the stress that had compounded since the last time I’d played in their church almost three months earlier.
While I allowed women to submit to me, I never filled willing holes no matter their tightness or honeyed cream dripping from their pussies. The last thing I needed was an unplanned pregnancy, the ticket even those carefully scanned before scening might hope for.
“Be there in ten, Jordan,” Brock said, pulling my head off the seat.
The sun set to my left, casting a glow over the green trees below and smearing pink among the billowing clouds above.
Adam’s estate appeared on the horizon, a large meadow amidst the forest, the sprawling stone and timber mansion set at its center, the old church nestled against the western woods.
One of the staff hurried out to retrieve my bag as we landed, and with a quick salute, Brock lifted off to head back home to Boston.
Once the wind from the blades faded, I eyed the church, my cock once more stirring at finding light glowing from the tall, frosted windows. It appeared as though they had started without me.
“Mrs. Hummel has your room ready, sir,” the help said, drawing my focus once more.
“Take my bag,” I said, turning for the church. “I’ll be along shortly.”
I strode across the manicured lawn to the pebbled path beyond, my footfalls eating at the distance between me and sure release. My shoes scuffed the three stairs leading to the old oak door, and I knocked a quick three raps, letting those inside know who was about to enter.
Keying in the five-digit code from memory heightened my pulse. A click, and I pushed the door inward, revealing the small church’s dim interior. As always, the scent of roses and sex wafted over me as I stepped over the stone threshold and shut the door quietly behind me.
Lily Rose Laurent lay bent over the altar that had been moved to the room’s center, her ankles and wrists bound, holding her face down and spread eagle over its cushioned top. Red handprints marked the pale skin of her ass and thighs, and her arousal glistened in the light of the dozens of candles burning around the room.
Adam, her husband, stood before her, naked and sweating, his cock shoved down her throat. He nodded in greeting before focusing on his wife’s mouth once more.
Garret sat on one of the two cushioned benches along the wall and nodded his own greeting, but turned away quickly, more interested in watching Lily suck off our best friend than pleasantries. Not that I could blame him.
I’d never had my length down Lily’s throat—Adam didn’t share—but I imagined every inch of my own cock disappearing down her throat as his did. Every goddamn inch, until her nose rested against his groin.
He crooned his delight, his praise for taking all of him, his sweet little sub, his love, his wife.
My cock pressed against the zipper of my trousers, and I adjusted my length while sitting on the bench across the room from Garrett, my attention on the gorgeous display of a true D/s relationship. Something I secretly longed for but knew would never be a part of my future.
“Such a good girl,” Adam whispered to his wife, stroking her hair while thrusting deeply into her throat once more. “You’ve earned your reward. Do you want my cum in your throat or your ass?” He pulled from between her hollowed cheeks with a pop, allowing her to answer.
She peered up at him through mascara-smeared eyes with adoration and love enough to punch any man in the gut. “My ass, Sir.”
“Is your pussy wet for me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I bit the inside of my lip, arms spread along the back of the bench as Adam took up position behind his wife. He dipped into her pussy with a groan, coating himself with her juices before pulling out.
“Let me in, baby,” he whispered, lining up with her ass and leaning over her back.
One slow flex of his ass, and they both groaned, Adam straightening, head tipped back, and hands grasping her hips.
“So. Fucking. Good.” He pulled out and thrust with each word, and unable to help myself, I grasped my leaking dick through my trousers.
Garret cursed beneath his breath.
“May they partake, sweet Rose?” Adam asked, his cock burying between her reddened cheeks.
“Mmm,” she moaned her agreement, and neither Garret nor I needed a direct invite to do what we’d done dozens of times before.
I approached the altar as he did, freeing my erection and gliding my palm over the beading pre-cum. Slowly stroking in time with Adam fucking his wife’s ass, I gave over to the need brewing in my balls, to the release that had built to the point of explosion.
“Come when you need to,” Adam murmured to his wife, but I let loose before her, ropes of my cum shooting over Lily’s shoulders.
Garret’s marked her lower back, and Lily came with a shriek and shudder, Adam’s pistoning hips burying him deep inside her ass. Curses spilled from all four of us as we found release.
I finished first and made my way to the bathroom to retrieve cloths for us. Since Adam allowed us to participate yet not truly partake, I handed him the one meant for Lily, and he cleaned her as she lay spent—lax—upon the table once meant for worship of another kind.
“Thank you, Lily, for sharing this moment with us,” I murmured, stepping back once cleaned up and tucked away.
She offered me a dazzling smile, her eyes at half-mast, looking like a sated woman. “Glad you could finally join us,” she whispered, and Adam untied the last of her bonds, pulling her into his arms.
He nodded at me with a grin. “I’ll talk to you boys in the morning.”
They disappeared into the large bathroom that had been built where the old raised pulpit used to be. I glanced at the king sized bed against the far wall with its black satin sheets before turning my focus back on my college buddy. “They’ll probably sleep here tonight,” I said, tipping my head toward the door. “I’ll walk your pansy ass back to the house now that it’s dark.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to admit that you want my pansy ass?” he said, grinning, his eyes as black as the night sky.
“Fuck you.”
He chuckled, and I followed him out into the night, shutting the door firmly behind us. “You wish.”
I snorted, and he clapped my shoulder. “Adam has a couple women for us tomorrow. How ‘bout you save a little dick for them?”
“I wouldn’t give it to you even if you begged,” I muttered, scanning the muted gray and black of the landscape as we made our way toward the house Adam had built for his wife.
“So, what the fuck made you late?”
My stomach twisted anew as my brow furrowed over the reminder of issues I had no wish to recount. “A moronic business man and a stalker from the pit of hades,” I told him anyway, since as a fellow CEO of JAG, he would learn of the shit I’d dealt with before long.
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
Rather than wait until over breakfast the next morning, I filled him in with a quick version of the Scorzelli affair as we made our way through the darkness. The lit windows of Adam’s home shone like a beacon offering refuge from the night—and from the tension that once more rode my shoulders.
Late. Again.
Lips pursed, I hurried down the hallway toward my employer’s office, the thick runner carpet hushing my sandals. I had stayed up late, pushing to finish up the latest project Lily had given me of organizing the upcoming dinner to raise funds for her non-profit foundation, but my drunken sister’s even later arrival had created enough drama to keep me staring at the dark ceiling into the early morning hours.
Lily appreciated my drive to please, but I doubted she would smile over my arriving late to her home three days in a row because of my hungover sister. If only she’d gotten her ass out of bed the first time I’d called—
“Oomph!”
I slammed into a hard wall of flesh, bouncing back—and onto my butt. Jerking my gaze upward, my mind blanked over the tall man I’d run into. Dirty blond hair, ruffled as though he’d just woken. Eyes, blue as the summer sky, scruff lined his square jaw…
He reached out his hand. “Apologies, love.”