Painting Her Fate
Book 1 in the Tell All Secrets series
by Layla Lochran

In this scene stationed in London, England we see Liliana (Lili) bringing out her wild, domineering side. We are talking a hot, sexy shower scene people! Zane is the lead singer of a band and Lili's occasional bed mate. They agreed in the beginning they would not catch feelings towards the other, but recent events have made someone realize they want to take things to another level between the two of them. Will it end in heartbreak?

Do enjoy this little snippet of my first book, Painting Her Fate, Liliana's Story. 

London, England- After the best night at Tally's pub playing for a sold out crowd. - It's time to celebrate.

 

I enter the darkened shower room, the shiny midnight blue tile glistening under the color changing lighting from above. It reminds me of stage lighting. Best to keep the rock star comfortable.

For a short time, anyway.

My body relaxes the second the hot pulsing water hits my skin. I give myself a quick shampoo and conditioner wash, make my pet wait a few more seconds, then I call out to him as I’m rinsing my body clean.

“You may enter, Mr. Morrison.” I state boldly. There are no other surprises now- by using his proper name, he knows what type of mood I am in.

I’m not a pain-wielding dominatrix in the least; no whips or chains, no ball gags or what have you. I rather enjoy the give and take of power, the ability to do as I please- within reason- and keep them forever desiring more. 

Zane practically flings himself into the shower room, his excitement visible and unhindered. Before he can lunge himself at me, I’m quick to plop a bubbly soap-ladened flannel square at his chest. He catches the cloth, glances down at it, then back at me with confusion. 

The lad thought he’d get his fill then and there. Sorry to disappoint. 

“Scrub yourself well and good,” I begin, my tone turning feisty, “there is no time for dirty boys in my playroom.” 

Suds fly as soon as the words leave my lips and in no time, Zane is 

clean from head to foot and in position in the center of the space, his shoulder length dark hair slicked back, lips parted, and eyes blazing with wickedness.

Let the fun commence. 

Running my artistic hands along the ridges, dips, and valleys of his chest and abdomen, I trace a finger along the black and gray quote on his ribcage, making him squirm and pant with heaty excitement. This sexy rock star isn’t afraid to flaunt his body, and what a body it is. Zane is lean, toned and sculpted, tattooed and pierced in the most exquisite of places, he has this mystic dark hair that is the perfect fist-full length- *hum of approval*- and that smirk of his- no wonder why I want to do bad things to this man. The mistress is ready to play. 

Catching him off guard I none too gently pushed him against the wall provoking an excited whimper from him. He tries leaning in to catch my lips in a kiss, instead I pull back and waggle a finger at him.

“Ah-ah.” I press my chest to his and whisper seductively, “Those who follow the rules will be rewarded, Mr. Morrison.” His breathing hitches and he rocks against me. A groan escapes him as he realizes his actions.

“My apologies madam,” he is quick to say in that just sang his heart out way he has, “I shall be better at containing myself.” His palms meet the wall on either side of him showing me he understands the game. He gives my curvaceous body a thorough perusing in the dim lighting- not that he can make out much.

I like it best to be kept shrouded in mystery. It adds to the mood. And hides my many scars.

“Now, where was I? Ah- yes.” 

Sliding ever so slowly down his body, he watches intently at my next move- wordlessly begging me to quicken my pace.  

All in good time, love. Don’t you worry. 

Steam builds in the room as I take his thick girth in my hands and lazily stroke him up and down, teasing him until he’s rocking his hips and begging for my mouth. His hands ball into fists and he sucks in a sharp breath the moment my tongue flicks his tip. 

“Bloody hell, woman,” he gasps, “can we end the game so I, *grunt* can fuck your dirty mouth instead?” He growls low as his hands leave the wall and begin combing through my wet hair.

Bad move.

I pull back, my hands leaving him, displeasure laces my every word.

“Tsk. Tsk.” Another finger wave, “You’re not following orders tonight, pet.” I shake my head back and forth, “Must I remind you what happens when rules are not obeyed?” My lips twitch and his eyes widen just a bit. Zane is a little fearful at the queen’s next move, “I feel showing you should fix things.” 

His Adam's apple bobs, and his breathing is short, his hands untangle from my hair and go back to the wall, all without vocal response.  

Good boy. 

Rule number one: no touching unless I say. 

You would think after two years, he would have mastered this. Is he wanting to be punished this go-around? Either way, I win. *Merrily* I always win. 

 

Thanks for reading! You can find Painting Her Fate in ebook, paperback, and audio. Out now!