All these ‘dnf’ just made that I even more wanted to read it. And I understand lots of them, because I have myself mixed feelings, but also I really admire going beyond the comfort zone and except certain things, I liked the story.
Amèlie liked to play. She is Mistress Amèlie, a Dominatrix, who is well known and appreciated in the Honey. After many years of this lifestyle, she was looking for a challenge. She missed the true connection and relation that could happen also outside the playroom. Olivier is confused and doesn’t understand why he is like he is and why he likes what he likes. It’s not proper for a man like him. But he decides to get into the club to explore it, and there meets Mistress Amèlie.
I was truly intrigued by Olivier and Amèlie story. Although I definitely prefer the alpha characters, it was something mysterious in the alpha-sub hero. But I craved more of these scenes, when his alpha nature come forth and those out of playroom. These are my favorite moments, I can’t get rid of it. It’s just that what works for me most. However, I had no problem with the erotic scenes, and there are many, among Mistress and sub male.
What I did not like is that it was strangely written. Especially on the hero part, I have to read several times many of his dialogues to understand what he wants to say. And there was too much sex scenes. They are great, creative and… revealing. But I would prefer to cut a few of them and more develop relationship between the characters.
In summary, I like books that push me out of the comfort zone, but it is not for everyone. Which for me could be inventive, for others may be too shocking, and even gross. But it’s okay. Kristen Ashley has so many other books that certainly everyone will find something for yourself.
As he slowly closed the door behind him and moved his eyes to look through the room, taking it in, she watched them get wide.
They dropped to her and his amusement was clear. Not only radiating from his gaze but twitching his lips.
Another unusual—and unacceptable—reaction.
He thought this was funny.
She hoped like fuck she had the opportunity to prove him wrong.
She crossed her arms on her chest and slightly put out a foot, like she was about to start tapping her toe. In the wrap dress she wore, she knew this opened the overlap, not exposing anything, but the promise for him was impossible to resist.
His attention dropped to her legs.
“In the playrooms,” she began with a snap, and his gaze cut to hers, “I want eye contact. Unless otherwise instructed, you should not only feel free to look me directly in the eyes, if I’m in your line of sight or I’m not giving you something that your body’s natural reaction would make it difficult to meet my gaze, I require it.”
She stood there staring as he did nothing but dip his chin in acknowledgment.
“Unless I’ve asked for their silence or for them to ask for leave to speak, I also require my toys to respond when they’re spoken to. Even if it’s only a ‘yes, Mistress,’ or ‘no, Mistress.’”
His stance relaxed, like he was settling in at the beginning of a show he found vaguely intriguing, and his deep rumble of a voice bounced like boulders through the room. “Yes, Mistress.”
Christ, even his voice declared his challenge.
“Excellent,” she allowed. “Your name?”
“Olivier,” he answered.
Also unusual, at least in this country. And interesting.
She liked it a great deal.
She studied him.
He let her, holding her eyes.
“I’m Mistress Amélie,” she eventually informed him.
“I know. You got a lotta fans out there…Mistress.”
The hesitation over him saying “Mistress” gave less of the impression he was testing her and more of the strange impression the word was unpracticed when, with any experienced sub, it would slip right off their tongue.
She made no comment to that.
“There are things we should go over,” she remarked.
“Right,” he stated, his big body adjusting again, now like he was settling in further, intent on giving her the same attention he would a flight attendant who gave the safety address.
That being no more than a courtesy.
She fought the shiver his actions created but allowed the irritation.
“Your safe word is kitten,” she stated.
“You’re open to any kind of play,” she went on.
“It’s important and now’s the time to share should there be anything you wish me to shy away from, Olivier. Especially as this is the first time I’ve played with you.”
Something in his eyes flashed. Blue eyes that were the color of nothing and everything. Not sky. Not sea. Not midnight. A pure blue that only existed in the unchartable depths of a rainbow.
She felt that flash snake up between her thighs, taking residence in her womb.
He wanted this conversation done so she would play with him. He wanted the preliminaries over so they’d get to the good stuff.
He wanted her.
She stared into those blue eyes and for a moment felt mesmerized.
For God’s sake, Leigh, she berated herself in an effort to pull it together. Rainbow?
“Olivier,” she prompted.
“I’m open to anything,” he confirmed.
She turned back to him. “You seem to have a good deal of stamina.”
“Amelie…Mistress, I don’t think you’re getting’ that I seriously find you not hard on the eyes.”
She bent closer, as intended for this part of their session, some of her fair falling on his chest in another caress. She did this letting her amusement show, if not all of the emotion she felt at his compliment.
“I wonder, mon chou, if you think you can butter me up with compliments.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Though not sure why I’d bother since I didn’t give you one and you just made me shoot a huge-ass load the like that have never come from my cock.”
“And he gives another compliment,” she said through a smile.
“You earn it, I’ll say it, he replied, his lips twitching. “That is, if I’m physically capable of speech.”
She was still smiling when she reached out a hand and delicately traced circles around his nipple.
His eyes darkened.
Her good humor increased.
“You’re of course aware I should do something about you being so audaciously cheeky.”
Another darkness crossed his face. “What?”
“I shouldn’t allow you to be cheeky with me.”
“Impudent,” she explained.
The look fled. “You mean, in uppity, hot-chick speak, a wise-ass.”
Amelie couldn’t help it, she laughed softly.
“She’s got a pretty laugh, too, to go with that pretty accent,” he murmured and she saw his eyes on her lips.
I could get lost in this one, she thought. Lost and never found.
About The Author
Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn’t taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen’s Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning.
Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she’s blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.