September 8, 2017 by Valerie Ullmer
Book Spotlight – Submission, Secrets, and the Soldier by Kryssie Fortune
Former soldiers make great heroes. They’ve fought for their country, they understand loyalty, and they come with solid muscle and faultless manners. That makes them perfect in my book. When Loose id requested submissions for three linked stories, I decided my heroes would be former soldiers who want to build a new life in the fictional North Carolina town of Westhorpe Ridge. I fell in love with my heroes and needed to revisit Westhorpe Ridge. Another stand-alone story beckoned.
Luke’s seen too many terrible things, and he’s suffered for it. His body’s scarred and his spirit’s crushed. Slowly, he’s clawing his way back to normal. It’s only natural that the other former military men in Westhorpe Ridge close ranks around him. The things PTSD sufferers go through can’t be underplayed.
The more I learned about Marines, SEALs, and Army Doctors, the more I respect them. Now I’ve added an Army trained mechanic to the list. While I’ve done all I can to bring Westhorpe Ridge to life, I need to thank my editor, Kierstin Cherry for “Americanizing” my very British expression. I hope my readers will love Westhopre Ridge and its heroes so much they’ll want to visit again and again.
Published by Loose id
Release date 5th September
Approximately 63,500 words
Submission, Secrets, and the Soldier
by Kryssie Fortune
Luke Roberts, a former army mechanic, has a new sub. She’s shy and inexperienced, but willing. As he teaches her about sensation play, she fears he’ll really hurt her and screams her safewords at him. Her reaction causes Luke to have a flashback. Although he’s clawing his way back to normal, he suffers from PTSD. Determined to get well, he contacts a PTSD specialist in Westhorpe Ridge.
Kathryn Johnson has visited a BDSM club three times. When she hooks up with Luke Roberts, he unintentionally terrifies her. She swears off spankings and goes home to Westhorpe Ridge. The last person she expects to see there is Luke Roberts.
Circumstances force them to share an apartment. Can Luke protect her when danger threatens? Or is she just a temporary sub in residence?
Inside the dump truck’s hopper, Kathryn screamed as the car sped toward them. “Farlaise. Straight ahead. We’re sitting ducks.”
Luke gritted his teeth and opened the throttle. The dump truck sped up. Solid, but not superfast, it trundled along the road. A brick outhouse came to mind as he headed directly for Farlaise’s car. This was one game of chicken Luke meant to win. Even if he took a bullet, he’d hold his course and keep Kathryn safe. “So, junior leaguer, how’s your pitching?”
She tried for a smile, but it turned into a grimace. “I had one of the team’s lowest earned run averages.”
Luke kept the throttle open wide. The chugging of the engine grew louder, but he’d told her the dump truck had a top speed of less than thirty miles an hour. The wind made it feel faster.
He took a deep breath and yelled, “Hooah. Balls-to-the-wall time. Our dump truck will pulverize their front end. When you’re near enough, lob one of your Molotov things in their direction. Anything to keep them off-balance since I might as well have a target on my chest sitting up here.”
She barely heard him over the engine noise. Adrenaline shot through her. She shivered with a mix of exhilaration, panic, and determination. Protecting Luke mattered more than her safety. Her fear level rose right along with her blood pressure. She could hear her heart race, but she’d keep the driver distracted. No way would she let Farlaise and his henchman hurt Luke.
Kathryn peered out the hopper. The henchman had his gun pointed directly at Luke. No way, buster.
She felt vulnerable now that she’d gotten naked, but she knelt, knees spread, pussy open, hands resting on her thighs, her gaze fixed on the floor. Just when she thought he’d changed his mind about their scene, she heard him stand and move behind her. He fastened a blindfold over her mask, and her world went black.
The darkness disoriented her, but Master Erik brushed his lips against hers. That brief, gentle touch set the wild horses in her stomach rearing up and pawing the air. She heard his clothes rustle as he moved in front of her. Gently, he lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her palm.
Coco Starr hitched in a breath as he fastened fur-lined handcuffs around her wrists. He took a moment to check they didn’t dig into her flesh. The deep rumble of his voice delighted her when he told her, “Stand up.”
With her hands fastened before her, she had difficulty rising, so he took hold of one elbow and helped her to her feet. His hands slid down to her hips as he walked her forward. “Arms over your head.”
She stretched upward as instructed. Despite her heels, she had to go on her tiptoes for him to loop the handcuff chain over the hook in the ceiling. Once the chain settled, she felt vulnerable as she teetered on her high heels.
He positioned her carefully, spreading her legs wide, then backed off again. She didn’t move, but her heart beat so loud she could hear nothing except her blood pounding in her veins. Nervous, excited, body on fire for his touch, she waited.
Listening hard, she wondered what Master Erik would do next. She heard his footsteps as he crossed the black-and-white tiled floor, followed by swishing sounds. He’d collected a flogger from the far wall. Although they’d agreed on this, she’d never been flogged before. Her nerves jangled as she anticipated his next move. When the flogger hit her skin, would it be soft and gentle or firm enough to make her back feel like he lashed it with tongues of fire?
Time moved in slow motion. Letting her Dom make decisions for her was a blessed release from her everyday persona. Her spine still tingled, part with nerves, part with anticipation. Not knowing what to expect felt…arousing. Her pussy grew damp, and she hovered on the edge of orgasm.
His breath felt warm on her neck as he palmed her breasts. The way he stroked and caressed them made her nipples peak. He chuckled and slipped tweezer clamps on each breast in turn. They felt heavy and tight, pulling her breasts down. When she wriggled and tried to find a better balance, bells tinkled on the ends of the clamps.
“Sweet music,” Master Erik whispered in her ear.
He stepped back, and she felt the soft caress of suede run down her spine. The slightly furred feel of it against her skin made her sigh in her bonds. A shiver ran from her head to her toes, making the bells clamped on her nipples chime like a fairy song.
Katherine parked outside the auto shop, lugged her suitcase from the trunk, and unlocked the door. The stairs were steep and seemingly endless. Once she’d manhandled her bag to the top, she leaned against the wall, panting and wishing she’d snatched something to eat earlier.
A noise from the back of the apartment had her spinning around. “Who’s there?”
Luke Roberts sauntered from the bathroom, fresh from the shower. He’d slicked back his hair, and a towel looped loosely around his waist. “Kathryn Johnson? What are you doing here? You still craving that spanking, maybe?”
She couldn’t take her eyes off his damp chest. And damn, that drop of water running down his pecs enthralled her. Even the red scars mottling the left side of his body seemed sexy, but she’d never seen anyone with so many. His legs were bare too, but the towel couldn’t hide his erection. Then he went and mentioned a spanking. Yes, please.
Her eyes glazed as she pictured herself naked, draped over his lap with her hands on the floor and her ass in the air. She imagined the sting of the first slap, and the way it would echo as his palm struck her bare flesh. Thoughts of him turning her ass red whetted her sensual appetite. God, after the confrontation with her mom, she really needed that spanking to settle her nerves.
She’d never known a few simple words and a sexy grin could make her pussy damp and turn her nipples into hard peaks. Her worries evaporated into a lust-fueled haze, but as she blinked back to normal, she stared at the naked man in her apartment. Her common sense told her to pull back, but she wanted to tug the towel from his waist, drop to her knees, and suck his cock. Even stopping herself from reaching out and stroking his massive chest took effort.
She felt her cheeks heat and knew she’d blushed. “That spanking? Oh! Not here, not now. Only… Damn it, I didn’t come to discuss my needs, but… No. What are you doing here?”
Her gaze dropped. The scars on his face paled to the wounds covering his left leg and the left side of his chest. Red and deep, they pitted every inch of flesh. Tiny patches of shiny skin, badly healed burns, shone between the scars.
Much as his injuries roused her sympathy, they added another layer to the sexy Dom teasing her about a spanking. His mental toughness must be amazing to have survived such severe injuries. No wonder he had flashbacks.
Kathryn yearned to reach out and run her hand down his scars and tell him they didn’t matter—but they clearly did to him. Unsure how to reassure him, she said nothing. Besides, her brain couldn’t move past that spanking he promised her. Maybe afterward, he’d take her to bed. Good grief, screwing a stranger? What am I thinking?
Slap. She sobbed in earnest, her tears soaking the chair seat as her shoulders shook. “Nine, Sir.”
Again, he turned gentle, stroking her butt and running his fingers through her cunt. “Spread your legs wider.”
Nervous but willing, she spread her legs so far apart she struggled to keep her balance. When he reached between her thighs and pinched her clit, she stiffened and made a sound halfway between a sob and a pleasured scream. He moved his hand, and she tensed, expecting him to strike her ass. Instead, he slapped her cunt.
Every bone in her body jarred, then melted like the clocks in a Dalí painting. She moaned and slumped forward. Her legs refused to support her, and she slid to the floor. “Ten, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
When he gathered her into his arms, she curled up against his chest like a contented kitten. Murmuring soft words, he settled on the sofa and stroked her hair before drying her eyes with a tissue. “You’re a brave, beautiful girl. I’ve never had a sub respond the way you do.”
He held her until her tears stopped, then almost bent in two to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead. She pulled him closer, kissing him back like a sex-starved slut—demanding as well as giving. His tongue tangled with hers, but after a moment, he pulled back. “Sweet Kate, if you want to take this further, you spell out your needs. I won’t take advantage of you. You’re the one in charge here, remember.”
Curling her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. When they broke apart, she whispered, “I want everything. I want to suck on your cock until you come down my throat. I want you to go down on me until I scream. I want you to tie me down and torment me into a sensual frenzy. I want you to teach me more sexual games than I can count. Most of all, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk in the morning.”
Meet Kryssie Fortune
Kryssie is never seen without her kindle. She reads everything and anything she can get her hands on. When she discovered hot, sexy reads, she felt like she’d found her home. The only books she hates are the ones that end with a cliff hanger or have unhappy endings.
Kryssie tries to set her stories in places she’s explored. Hopefully, it adds color to her writing. Anything can spark a story idea. Sometimes she takes liberties though. The North Yorkshire town of Whitby is one of her favorite places. To keep the details of her imaginary town, Westhorpe Ridge consistent, she mentally shunted Whitby over the Atlantic and renamed it Westhorpe Ridge.
When not writing, Kryssie loves to walk on the beach of home town, Bridlington, or potter in her garden. Popping down to London to see her family is her favorite thing to do.
Kryssie currently has thirteen books on general release along with a boxed e-book of the first three Westhorpe Ridge stories. All her stories are M/ F or M/M/F. All are edited by publishing houses in either the UK or the USA. While her stories sizzle with sex, plot comes before bed. Life’s always an adventure going on in Kryssie’s world.
Kryssie loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:
Or you can email her direct on Kryssie.Fortune@aim.com