New Release
Hard-Pressed
Club Hard, 1
Club Hard, 1
by
Queenie Black
contemporary, BDSM, erotic romance
Master Lucien has one night at Club Hard.
One night…to show bodyguard Rose Dainty that he can be the Dom she needs,
One night…to show her that submitting to him doesn’t make her weak, that true submission requires strength and trust.
Will pushing Rose to her limits prove to her she can trust him with her body and heart, and can she let go of her deepest fears long enough to enjoy her surrender? `
They both have everything to prove and everything to lose.
Q: Welcome Lucien, thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk to me today.
L: Bonjour Queenie. It’s a pleasure.
Q: Do you prefer England or France?
L: I feel equally at home in both countries and travel between both, but I must admit that I have a soft spot for France. And of course, French is the language I prefer in the bedroom or when I’m in Club Hard.
Q: Oooo, you’re making me come over all goose-bumpy. (He smiles) What do you look for in a woman?
L: Someone who sees me, the man. Not the business, or the money, or the Dom. Me.
Q: What do you like to do in your spare time? How do you let off steam?
L: I like to play in Club Hard with Rose. Other than that, I run, and I practise martial arts. Mainly Wushu, a Chinese form. Sometimes I cook.
Q: Does it bother you that Rose does MMA?
L: How can it? She loves doing it as I love Wushu. Of course, I don’t like seeing her take hits, unless I’m delivering them, of course. (He shrugs) It’s her choice and I would never try and take that away. Anyway, I get to kiss her better afterwards.
Q: Ahem. Changing the subject, you said you like cooking. Tell me more.
L: I spent some time in a cordon bleu cookery school when I was much younger. I can cook most things and I enjoy putting together ingredients and flavours for friends and family.
Q: Wow. Moving on, are you a tea or coffee person?
L: Coffee. Black. Is there any other way?
Q: Cat or dog?
L: Dog. I have two Irish wolfhounds.
Q: Do you prefer to use the paddle or cane?
L: My hand. It’s far more intimate.
Q: Riiiiight. How did you know Rose was the woman for you?
L: When she walked into my life, quite simply I couldn’t see anyone else. She spoke to something deep inside me. She’s my soulmate.
Q: Favourite ice-cream?
L: I don’t eat it, but I might use it on Rose…hmmm that’s given me an idea for tonight.
Q: Okay, I won’t keep you any longer. Last question, what’s your favourite song?
L: I have too many to pick just one but at the moment I’m listening to Ivory Road by King Charles. Can’t get enough of it.
Q: Thank you!
L: Au revoir
I mounted the six shallow steps and faced the double front doors. Twin carriage lights cast a soft gleam over the brass plaque with its discrete lettering:
Club Hard
Private Members Only
I desperately wanted to run back down the steps, leap into my car, and drive home, but if I did, nothing would change, and I’d go back to dividing my time between working out, Candy Crush Saga, and the occasional night out with my friends. I might miss out on learning something about myself, something that could make a difference in my sex life. Worse, I might miss a chance at love.
I stayed, my feet rooted to the floor, but the insides of my hands were so damp, my finger slipped on the brass bell, setting off a short, discordant jangling. I winced as I rang it again properly this time. That certainly wouldn’t endear me to anyone.
Shifting from foot to foot, trying to keep the blood circulating in my toes, I looked around. Behind me, the gravel drive snaked away to a discreet carpark, and trees and shrubs created shadows within shadows. Autumn had finally reached London and in this exclusive part of it, crisp, clean air and earthy leaf mulch replaced the smell of fast food and exhaust.
I shifted again, starting to get irritated. If you were going to demand a woman wear nothing but a skirt that barely covered her butt, and a top that was little more than a bit of elastic bandage—on me it was ridiculous, if I sneezed, I’d pop out over the top—then you should damn well open the door promptly. Now, despite wearing my warmest coat over the absurd ensemble, there was a distinct draught zipping under my hem and freezing my exposed butt cheeks.
I lifted my finger to stab the bell again, and the door swung open.
Bloody hell. A real butler. I was no stranger to mansions with staff. Working as a bodyguard meant I saw the inside of a lot of wealthy homes, but so far, a liveried butler was a new one to me.
“Can I help you?”
I cleared my throat, wondering if there was any etiquette for addressing a butler, aware that my finger was still lurking in the vicinity of his eye. “Umm, I’m, ah, it’s Ms. Dainty. To see Mr. Dufort. I’m expected.”
He waved me through into a large marble-floored hall with a fire burning at one side. A wide, elegant staircase at the back curved away to the upper floors.
“I’ll inform Mr. Dufort that you’re here, if you’d like to take a seat.” He indicated a collection of sofas and easy chairs huddled as if for warmth around the fireplace. I made a beeline for the heat.
“May I take your coat?”
I crossed my arms tightly. No way was I exposing my scantily clad self. “Ah, thanks, but I’m a bit cold.”
“I see my guest has arrived, Henry.”
I turned away from the fire to see Lucien Dufort crossing the hall toward me. The floor seemed to drop a few inches and I had to grab the back of a chair to steady myself as his delicious, rich chocolate voice with its faint French accent wound around me, setting my heart hammering.
A tall, elegant man, he moved toward me with predatory intent, covering the floor in loose, confident strides, but it was his eyes that held my gaze, dark eyes, sharp with intelligence and power. He wasn’t a handsome man. His narrow-bladed Gallic nose, inherited from his mother, was slightly overlarge for that, but his lips were sensual, and the mix of tenderness and lust in his expression as he looked at me sent electric tingles charging down my spine.
“Rose, welcome to Club Hard.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, his tongue flickering into the little hollow between my two smallest fingers, mimicking the act of sex. Normally, that would be an instant turn-off, but when Lucien did it, everything inside me melted. I tugged my hand free and shoved it into my coat pocket. This was bad. We hadn’t even started yet and my hormones were doing a happy dance.
“Your coat, ma petite.”
I undid the buttons reluctantly and he stripped it off my shoulders, giving it to Henry before indicating my feet. “Barefoot, please.”
I obeyed, steadying myself with one hand on Lucien’s forearm. I could have rested it there all day, enjoying the feel of thick bone and the flex of hard muscles, but I quickly unzipped my boots and gave them to Henry, who took them as solemnly as if I was handing him the crown jewels for safekeeping. He disappeared, taking my things with him, and I stood shivering, waiting for Lucien to say or do something. I shouldn’t have felt vulnerable. I fought with this amount of flesh on display, so it shouldn’t have bothered me, yet insecurity and apprehension crept hand-in-hand up my spine. “Lucien?”
He cupped my chin, his palm warm and sure, his thumb stroking my cheekbone in a gesture I found calming. “Tonight, you will address me as Monsieur, or Sir.” His words sank deep inside me, reaching a place I wasn’t aware existed. A place I didn’t want to believe existed. I stepped back, dislodging his hand.
Lucien’s cheek creased in amusement. “So, ma belle perle, the challenge begins. Are you ready?”
I’ve always loved writing and I won my first prize for a short story when I was still at primary school. I’m an avid reader of romance and erotic romance and can usually be found with my nose in a book. The dynamics and sheer variety of human relationships fascinate me, and this is what I like to explore in my writing. I live in North Yorkshire with my husband and cat where I enjoy running and Tai Chi.
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