Please welcome my guest blogger, Silke Ming with POSSESING HIS CLAIM.
Although Mason and Katie Oliver are happily married, there is still a void in the bedroom. When Mason realizes that all is not well with his competition, Ridley Construction, he persuades Bridges, the youngest of the Ridley clan, to join his company, but Mason has an ulterior motive. Bridges, however, takes the bait, but like Mason he too has an ulterior motive. He is still head over heels in love with Mason’s wife, Katie. After a birthday celebration, Mason invites Bridges to their home, where the three end up together in bed.
Mason’s construction projects are being vandalized, and when Katie is kidnapped, they know that Rock Ridley, the eldest Ridley clan is the culprit. He plans to rape Katie in the presence of Bridges and Mason. The plan is foiled, and Rock is sent to a mental asylum. Bridges moves into the Oliver home with Katie and Mason, where they continue to enjoy their alternative lifestyle.
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“Sometimes I wonder if I allowed Rock and Jeff Ridley to abuse me because I was looking for a father figure,” Katie said. “Although I was in love with Bridges and considered him to be my boyfriend, I had the feeling that Rock loved me. I really did. He knew I was in love with Bridges, but yet he made me feel like a woman. Wanted, desired, and needed by a very wealthy man. I knew what Rock and Jeff were doing to me was wrong, but it was better than going home to be ridiculed by my mother. They made me confident. They were my best friends, and when other people gawked at me because they thought I was a loose woman, they always tried to cheer me up.”
“You didn’t know your father, but I knew mine. He was right there in the same town with me, and he wanted me. Yes, the Ridley patriarch had claimed me as his own. Me, his illegitimate son. His wife threw me out like a piece of trash, but I grew up loved and wanted by a woman I will never forget as long as I live, but know what, Katie?”
“We’ve got each other now. I love you, and I know you love me, and I will never, ever give you up.”
“The world opened up for me when I met you, Mason. We both have unorthodox ways, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“You didn’t say that you loved me.”
“Of course I love you. I love you more than life itself.”
Mason drew her closer, and his lips brushed against hers.
“I know what I can do to make you feel better,” he said, slipping his hand between her thighs. “We can continue where we left off. What do you say? Do you want me?”
“You know I always want you.”
He ground his hardness against her leg, setting her body on fire. Her eyelids grew heavy with lust, and she gazed hypnotically into his eyes. She pushed her hand to his manhood, hard and begging to be pacified. Her tongue washed over her parched lips, and her body writhed against his. He thrust his tongue between her parted lips, and she sucked greedily while his eager fingers found her pert nipples and caressed them, bringing whimpers of delight from deep within her throat.
“Do you want me?” he whispered again.
“Yes, Mason. I want you.”
He slowly undressed her, all the while showering her with kisses. She parted her legs, giving him better access to her pulsing center, but her gaze never left his. Sliding down her hot, steamy body, he didn’t stop until his head was lodged between her thighs, and he administered long licks from her entrance all the way to her throbbing clit.
She sucked two fingers into her mouth, withdrawing them and licking on them, her moans and his groans melting into a cacophony of sounds.
Mason gazed down at his thick cock, the tip oozing with pre-cum, and brushed his thumb over the purple, shiny head. He seemed to be in a hypnotic state as his tongue darted out and licked his parched lips. His body jolted forward in anticipation, and lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, he lowered his head and stared into her pulsing core. He puckered his lips and blew a stream of air onto her clit.
Her hips lifted of their own volition, and she screamed out his name over and over again.
“Yes, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”
He gazed down at his cock, which was still begging for attention. He fisted it at the root and pumped it vigorously.
“Is this what you want?” he asked, running the broad head up and down her cleft.
“Yes, Mason. Yes.”
“Where do you want it?” he asked, climbing up her body and moving his cock in circles around her swollen clit.
She was being physically and mentally seduced, but her eyes remained on him. She wanted that delicious cock that was at its most impressive when it was deep down her throat as she sucked him and brought him to the sweetest orgasm, but tonight he had other ideas.
His upper lip was dotted with perspiration, and he stepped off the bed, bringing that masterpiece on level with her lips. She watched as he continued to pump it, his eyes closed, his legs parted, and his juices flowing over his fist like a fountain of vanilla. Jerking and thrusting as each spasm took possession of his body, he twisted and turned, continuing to beat the hell out of his cock. Now exhausted, he stood there, his eyes closed, his hair glued to his forehead and a peaceful look on his face. As if he suddenly remembered he hadn’t brought her to an orgasm, he looked down at her. She had one hand buried between her thighs, seeking self-gratification.
“I’m going to lick you and keep licking you until you come and keep coming,” he said, grabbing a handful of tissues from the nightstand and cleaning his hand.
He turned his attention back to her, and she beckoned to him. He sank onto the bed, lifted both her legs around his neck, and moved into the best position for action. Licking, sucking, and fingering her, he didn’t let up until he heard her moans and her cries. Writhing under him, her muscles wrapped themselves around his hardness, squeezing it. He thrust into her without mercy and still she begged for more.
She was a vision of delight when she came, her mouth opened wide, but there was no sound. The Scream! Yes, her mouth reminded him of that famous painting, and as he visualized it, he wanted to plug that hole with his cock, but it would be a little while before that would happen. They had both quenched their sexual thirst, and their exhausted bodies lay strewn across the bed. Katie sprawled wide like a broken doll, and Mason relaxed, his cock deflated and reclining on his thigh.
“How do you feel?” he asked, pulling on her long braid and holding her close.
“You’re the best,” she replied, her lips inches away from his. “Love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“Umm,” she said, clinging to him.
“Why don’t we go out to dinner and then spend a quiet night together?”
“I like the sound of that,” she murmured.
* * * *
Katie gazed at her husband as she lightly touched his cheek with her fingertips. She loved him. In spite of everything he had heard and had learned about her character, he had married her. There was no doubt in her mind that Mason loved her. She already knew his tastes in the bedroom were unusual and diverse—if bringing your best friend to your matrimonial bed on your wedding day wasn’t unusual, what was? In addition, he had shown proclivities for other unusual tendencies. She wondered if Agatha’s strict upbringing had done anything to alter his personality, or was it that deep down he was a true Ridley, even though they hadn’t accepted him as one of them?
Her thoughts turned to Bridges Ridley. She couldn’t get him out of her mind ever since she had seen him on her short visit to Chapel Hills a few months earlier. At that time, he had proclaimed his undying love for her, even though he knew she was married to his half-brother Mason Oliver. Later that night at dinner, he had also defended her against the harsh and cruel words of his brother Rock.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Mason whispered.
Mason ran his tongue around the center of her palm, making revolutions there, and then licking the soft flesh between her fingers. One by one, he pulled each digit between his lips, sucking them until Katie lost her ability to think. She watched him intently. That tongue, that magical tongue had her squeezing her thighs together to ease the ache on her swollen clit. How could she be so turned on by watching him licking her palm? Yes, her faucet had been turned on and the crotch of her panties was drenched with her moisture.
“I like doing this to you,” he said, continuing the assault on her digits. “What else do you like?”
“I like it when you lick me, long and slow,” she replied breathlessly.
“You’re so specific.”
“I know what I like, and I like it when you lick me down there.”
He sat on his heels, and still holding her gaze, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear and pulled them down over her legs. He parted her thighs, and a look of hunger registered on his face. He was really hungry for her. Featherlight, he traced a path up one thigh and down the other, intentionally missing that raging fire burning out of control.
“Did you like it when Bridges licked you?” he asked, his fingers still bypassing her throbbing cleft.
“He never did.”
Mason stopped in mid-action, but her hips continued to form circles on the mattress.
“What about the other two brothers? Did Rock or Jeff ever taste you?” he asked, touching her clit for a split second.
“Never,” she hissed. “Please, please, Mason.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Are you telling me the truth? Was I the first to introduce you to this wonderful thing? You don’t know what you’ve been missing all this time.”
“They liked it when I did it to them, but they never did it to me,” she said, squirming.
“I promise you that I’m going to make up for all that lost time.”
To Mason, sex was like a drug. It was the food of the gods. His mind played around what Katie had just revealed to him. He found it impossible to comprehend that no one had ever tasted her precious flower, partaken of its nectar and the fullness thereof. He would make it his lifelong ambition to keep her satisfied, to ensure she was always happy, and there was no better time than the present. He opened the first button of her blouse, and two full, ripe breasts made their escape. Those two heavy mounds were on display only for him. He started a torturous route beginning at her rosy nipples, puckered and standing at attention, as he worked his way down. He slid off the foot of the bed, raised her legs and eased her body down until her hips were on the edge of the mattress.
Staring at that beautiful flower that he would be the first to sup from, he massaged his cock with long, slow, deliberate strokes, exposing his purple, velvety head to her view with each caress. This caused her lips to pucker with anticipation, and he pushed her ankles down beside her head until they resembled a pair of earrings dangling from her ears. He planted his weight on her thighs to keep them parallel with the bed, and falling between them, he settled in to dine, dispensing small increments of pleasure at a time.
Ecstasy rolled through her veins, touching each nerve ending and disrupting every tender spot in its way. She could no longer contain her emotions, and her noises filled the room. Lapping, sloshing, and gurgling sounds.
“Mason,” she cried out as the waves of ecstasy rolled over her, coming to rest on her throbbing clit. “Oh God, Mason,” she cried out. “Oh, Mason.”
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against her hot, pulsing pussy.
“I want to feel my skin against yours.”
He got to his feet, wrapped her legs around his waist, and fueled her with his stiff cock, working it around her entrance and teasing her with it until she started to beg.
“Inside, Mason. Inside.”
Slowly he inched it, oozing with pre-cum, inside her entrance, withdrawing it again and rubbing it around her clit.
“Oh God,” she begged. “Don’t torment me, Mason.”
“But I like tormenting you. I love the way you look, Katie. Open, just for me,” he said, staring into her pulsing pussy.
He plunged his length inside her and withdrew it again, causing her to bury her head in the pillow, her groans and moans pushing him to the verge to losing his load.
She moaned loud and long, and each time he withdrew, his cock reappeared sheathed with her nectar. As he moved in and out, he kept his gaze on the junction where they were joined.
“You feel so good, Katie. God, you feel so good,” he said, humping wildly. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me.”
A muffled cry erupted from her throat, and she came, arms flailing. Mason increased his momentum, and his warm, salty spurts flooded her channel, and he collapsed on top of her, his shaft softening inside her before slowly slipping out, covered in her cream, and resting lazily on her thigh.
“I love you, Katie. I love you so much,” he said, his head buried in her neck.
“I love you, too, Mason.”
“That, my love, was one stellar performance,” he whispered, “There’s something else I’d like to know.”
“I know Bridges loves you. Would you sleep with him again if you had the chance?”
“Oh, Mason,” she said, holding him close. “You’re my husband. I would, but only if you wanted it.”
“You still love him, and I know that you want him, and maybe he wants you, too. Am I right?”
“Let’s not talk about that now,” she said, rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom. “Let’s shower and have dinner.”
Q. Silke, you have already written about seventeen books. You are given the chance to be one of your heroines, which one would you like to be and why?
A. Sasha Santorelli! She is the heroine in Sasha’s Temptation, Part 1 of the ‘Five Widows’ series. Sasha fell in love with the exotic dancer, Jack Hammer who was less than half her age. Once she overcame the problem of the age difference between them, love conquered every aspect of her life.
Q. Would you be interested in a May-October romance?
A. But of course! Think of all the wonderful things a younger man could teach you... things that you had never dreamed of. However, for now, that is out of the equation because I am happily married.
Q. Why did you become a romance writer?
A. I had already written six fictional novels when I decided to try my hand at romance ... sweet romance novels like those Barbara Cartland wrote. When I submitted my first book to Siren, which of course was sweet romance, they said they were interested in my work, but I must rewrite because they didn’t accept purple prose. Purple prose? I had no idea what that meant.
Q. Now that you know what it means, do you regret not being a romance writer like Barbara Cartland?
A. Not at all... Purple prose is sweet and wicked, and those readers with a sense of adventure can read all about it without leaving the safety of their beds.
Q. When you’re not writing Silke, how do you spend your time?
A. I love gardening and right now we’ve got beautiful weather in Canada, so I’m out there on the back porch first thing in the morning watching the wildlife. I spend a couple more hours puttering around in the garden and around two or three o’clock, I start to write. This lasts until about ten pm, when I shut shop to watch my favorite show – My Kitchen Rules – Australia.
Q. Your latest book, Possessing his Claim, which is MFM, deals with a free spirit who gives herself freely to three brothers. Where did you come up with such a sinful idea?
A. A very vivid imagination. That’s all it takes.
Q. The last question Silke, are you working on anything right now?
A. Yes, I am. It’s another MFM – They call her Bella – It is about a homeless young woman who meets Mr. Right while panhandling on a street corner.
Q. So Mr. Right, shall we say, may be just around the corner?
A. Could just be.
Sounds like another winner, Silke. Thank you.
Thank you Elena.
Thanks so much for stopping by, Silke. :)