Body Talk

by Cara Bristol

  Remember when your favorite paperback books naturally opened to the scenes you'd read over and over, the ones that made you laugh, tugged your heart or got you hot and bothered?

  In Body Talk, USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol has compiled eleven full-chapter excerpts of the sexiest scenes from her most popular and favorite erotic romances. These story excerpts will tug at your heart, captivate your imagination, and stir your senses. You’ll visit the familiar…and escape to the unexpected in a variety of subgenres including: contemporary romance, BDSM/spanking romance, science fiction romance, romantic comedy, and even a historical romance selection.

  Come share some tender, erotic moments in some of Cara’s beloved stories.

  Body Talk Copyright © November 2016 by Cara Bristol

  Irresistible Attractions Copyright © May 2015 by Cara Bristol

  Body Politics Copyright © November 2014 by Cara Bristol

  Goddess’s Curse Copyright © March 2015 by Cara Bristol

  Destiny’s Chance Copyright © July 2016 by Cara Bristol

  Educating His Bride Copyright © April 2016 by Cara Bristol

  Stolen Moments Copyright © July 2015 by Cara Bristol

  Rahms’s Way Copyright © September 2016 by Cara Bristol

  Stranded with the Cyborg Copyright © September 2015 by Cara Bristol

  Captured by the Cyborg Copyright © March 2016 by Cara Bristol

  Trapped with the Cyborg Copyright © June 2016 by Cara Bristol

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  eISBN : 978-0-9968390-1-3

  Editors: Kate Richards, William Harrison, Sandra Rychel, Nanette Sipe

  Cover Artist: FIVERR

  Formatting by Sweet ’N Spicy Designs

  Published in the United States of America

  Cara Bristol

  http://carabristolcom

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Irresistible Attractions

  Body Politics

  The Goddess’s Curse

  Destiny’s Chance

  Educating his Bride

  Stolen Moments

  Rahm’s Way

  Stranded with the Cyborg

  Mated with Cyborg

  Captured by the Cyborg

  Trapped with the Cyborg

  Praise from Amazon readers

  Titles by Cara Bristol

  About the Author

  BODY TALK

  by

  Cara Bristol

  Irresistible Attractions

  Rod and Cane Society, Book 6

  Genre: Contemporary BDSM romance

  Billionaire Jordan is a member of the Rod and Cane Society, an organization of men who spank their wives to maintain discipline in the home. Hannah, a college student, works nights cleaning the Rod and Cane Society mansion, and gets curious. One evening, Jordan catches her trying out the spanking equipment. In this scene, the two of them meet for coffee, and afterwards he takes her back to the mansion.

  The disciplinary-chamber door slid shut with a portentous click, and Hannah’s stomach fluttered. He’s testing me. He doesn’t think I’ll go through with another spanking.

  Of course that’s what he intended. Why else would he have brought her to the mansion? Maybe he’s trying to scare me.

  Won’t work. I don’t scare easily.

  Well, actually she did, but, surprisingly, she wasn’t afraid of him. Her legs wobbled in her boots with edgy anticipation, not fear.

  Do your worst.

  Well, okay, maybe not your worst. She stifled a nervous giggle and clasped her hands.

  Jordan checked the mic status. “I’m certain we’re alone in the building. It’s late, and there weren’t any other cars outside, but better safe than sorry.” He drew the privacy drapes across the two-way mirror.

  Had she done that the other night, she wouldn’t be standing here now. Her estimation of him as a gentleman rose at his chivalry.

  I’m going to do this!

  He faced her. “It seems rather obvious, but I’d better state it. I’m going to spank you.”

  Her pussy contracted. She’d gotten wet watching him draw the drapes. Is there such a thing as premature arousal? “I know.”

  “This is your chance to back out,” he said without inflection, but a twitching muscle in his jaw belied his deadpan delivery. Not to mention the bulge in his slacks. He craved this as much as she did. Could she handle Jordan unleashed? At the coffee shop, she’d decided to act boldly for once and had flirted outrageously—well, outrageous for her—and her efforts had landed her in the disciplinary chamber. The headiness of success further fueled her confidence.

  “I want to do this,” she said.

  He raked a hand through his perfect hair. She didn’t understand his reservation. If anyone should be hesitant, it should be her. He was a too-fucking handsome, powerful computer-tech tycoon on track to becoming a freakin’ billionaire, while she was an average-looking student at a state university whose butt was too wide and whose hair frizzed in the rain. Who worked as a house slash office cleaner. Normally, for her circle to intersect with his circle, she would have to be on hands and knees scrubbing his floor.

  So, if she could be on her hands and knees getting spanked, sign her up! Did people do it like that?

  “All right, then,” he said.

  Yes! Hannah smothered a triumphant grin.

  “If it gets too intense, you need to give me a word, and I’ll stop and escort you to your vehicle.” Vehicle. How formal he sounded. Their circles would never intersect again was what he meant.

  “A safeword.” She nodded.

  “You’re aware of safewords?”

  If she confessed she’d read about them in her e-book library of two hundred plus BDSM and spanking erotic romances, would he view that as positive or negative? Would he worry she lacked real-life experience to proceed? She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on it.

  “How about vacuum?” she said, and cringed. Could she have picked a stupider word? Why remind him she was a cleaner? Why hadn’t she chosen something like lavender? Or lingerie? Or the tried-and-true red?

  He didn’t seem to notice how dumb it was. He was staring at her mouth.

  In a flash, all hesitancy and indecision vanished from his expression and posture, and he became dominance personified. He straightened. His face hardened. Muscles bulged. His gaze lusted.

  She peeked at his trousers. Yessss, sir!

  “That will work.” He motioned. “Take off your jeans.”

  Take off— Confidence crumpled like a cellophane wrapper at the prospect of baring her imperfect body under the harsh fluorescents and his microscopic scrutiny. Of course, that’s how it would be. Why hadn’t she foreseen that? It shouldn’t matter—he’d already seen her near-naked rear end, but that had occurred under different circumstances.

  Heat suffused her face, but she compressed her lips with determination and unzipped her boots. She stumbled in tugging them off, and he grabbed her elbow to steady her then released her when she undid her jeans. She expected him to tower over her while she completed his instructions, but as she fought her way out o
f the tight denim pants, he strode to the wall of paddles. Her pants lay in a messy heap atop her boots—not at all the way a cleaner should leave them, so she folded them.

  She had nowhere to set the neat little pile except the chair they’d used the last time, so she shook out her jeans and draped them over the metal-legged spanking bench she deemed least likely to be put into service then realized she could have put the denim on the seat and hadn’t needed to unfold them at all. Hannah took a deep breath before she squeaked “vacuum” and ran from the room wearing her thigh-skimming baby-doll-style top and undies. She moved her boots next to the bench and peeked at Jordan. He was taking a long time to pick out a paddle. Was he nervous, too?

  He unhooked a smallish leather-covered one and then raked a steely gaze over her. Nope, didn’t seem to be. “Last chance,” he said, and smacked the paddle against his palm.

  Once again, she got the impression he was attempting to frighten her into leaving.

  She couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off—or amused. Or flee like he goaded her to. She planted her hands on her hips. “You don’t scare me,” said the pantless girl to the man wielding a paddle.

  “Maybe I should.” He stalked toward her until he had invaded her personal space then tucked the paddle under his arm, captured her face between his palms, and kissed her. His mouth slid over hers, and Hannah dissolved. She forgot to be mad, forgot to be annoyed or amused, and melted into him, absorbing his taste and scent. Power and strength.

  He claimed her, his lips demanding, his tongue insisting. Never had simple intimacy been so all-consuming, so possessive, so heady. This kiss would be the kiss against which all others would be judged. The room spun like in the movies.

  He set her away from him. “How about now?”

  She swayed a little. “Nope.”

  * * * *

  Jordan couldn’t remember the last time a woman had tangled his emotions the way this one did. Ask her out. Send her home. Frighten her. Beg her to stay. Spank her. Don’t spank her. Had there been any doubt what he would do? Not once he’d kissed her, and he suspected she’d known long before he did. He was irresistibly attracted to her.

  The big bad Dom was putty in the little cleaner girl’s hands.

  He needed her so much, his teeth ached. If he was a gentleman—and until encountering her, he’d considered himself one—he’d backpedal and do this the right way. Date her. Go out to dinner, to the theater, on a picnic or two. Kiss her good night and then go home and jack off. After she got to know him, then he could jump her bones and nail her ass. He was going about this all the wrong way.

  He didn’t care.

  Well, not quite true. He cared, but it wouldn’t stop him.

  He held out his hand, and she curled her slender fingers between his. Like they were meant to be there. He tugged gently and led her to the chair still in the center of the room, where he’d left it. “We’ll start like we did…last night.” Good grief, had it been only the previous evening? “We’ll switch to a spanking bench and the paddle in a bit.”

  “All right.” A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of her lips.

  He sat and patted his lap. Déjà vu all over again. Almost. “Give me your word.”

  She frowned. “My word?” Her forehead cleared. “Oh! Vacuum…sir,” she said in such a seductive voice he’d never again look at the household machine without getting a woody.

  With an alacrity that charmed and dismayed him, she wiggled into place. He smoothed his hands over her ass, inspecting the previous night’s handiwork. The blush had faded to her normal skin tone except for three faint stripes from the belt. He traced the fading welts.

  She was naked enough in her plum satin thong, however, this time nothing would satisfy him but a true bare-bottom spanking. He hooked his thumb into the band. “You don’t need these.”

  She tensed, and it was his turn to find amusement in the situation. Where’s your confidence now, little girl? She lifted her hips and allowed him to tug them off. He flung them in the direction of the spanking bench where her jeans and boots were.

  Without the ridiculous scrap, her sex was visible, her arousal evident by the glistening moisture, putting to rest doubts she wanted this.

  He began as he meant to begin, not softly or hesitantly, but with intent. He slapped in a volley of hard, loud smacks that stung his palm.

  “Ow, ow! That hurts!” She laughed in complaint.

  “It’s supposed to.” He intended to teach her a lesson about…what? Taking chances with strange men she’d be wise to avoid? Until now, Jordan hadn’t comprehended why or how politicians got caught with their pants down with sweet little misses—interns, campaign workers, starlets. Why risk their careers and aspirations for sex? After meeting Hannah, he understood. From the moment the elevator doors slid open, she’d decimated his good intentions.

  She deserved a spanking.

  Left, right, top, bottom, dead center—he warmed her entire seat with his palm. Kissed the crease between buttocks and thigh, laid several stinging slaps over the fading welts.

  When her arms flew to protect herself from the onslaught, he pinned her wrists against her lower spine and continued. She kicked, and he immobilized her legs with one of his and continued. She bucked, bumped his hard-on, and enflamed his already-burning lust, and he continued.

  The room filled with loud slaps and soft cries. Ragged breaths and pleas. But no safeword. Damn her for that. And damn her for making him proud of her for not using it.

  When the rounds of her bottom blossomed all over, he stopped spanking and released her legs and wrists. She sniffled.

  “Are you all right?” He rubbed her chastened flesh. His own palm burned, and he could not say which radiated more heat—his hand or her ass.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you ready for the next phase?”

  “Yes, sir.” God, he loved her throaty voice, her respectful address, the sheen of desire coating her sex and inner thighs.

  He slipped his hand between her legs and drew a finger over her folds. His cock throbbed, and he bit off a growl. She either waxed or shaved, and her pussy was as slick and velvety as a dewy rose petal. He found her clit and massaged the nub in a circular motion. She sighed, and moved with him.

  “Is this the next phase?” she asked with humor in her voice.

  He penetrated her and stroked inside. “Do you want it to be?” Tight walls clenched his finger. Scruples lay shattered on the floor.

  Hannah moaned. “Yes, oh God, yes.”

  His finger glistened with her wetness when he pulled it from her channel. “Let’s finish the spanking first.” He assisted her to her feet, grabbed the paddle from beside the chair, and led her to the bench. “Take off your top, please.”

  She pulled it over her head and dropped it and stood there in a bra that matched her thong in color and nothingness. It barely covered her nipples. One deep breath and it wouldn’t. He motioned, and she unhooked the front clasp. The scrap sailed off her hand to land on the floor.

  Exquisite. Her breasts rested high and firm, and, while modest in size, were perfectly formed and tipped with large, rosy aureoles. Under his scrutiny, her nipples tightened and puckered. A slim waist flared to generous hips. Her cleft was beautifully naked, except for a small landing strip.

  I am so done for.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. He felt quite warm, but he wasn’t stark naked.

  “No.”

  “Well, let’s proceed.” He pointed to the lower padded shelf. “Kneel on this part.” He tapped to the upper ledge. “Lean your torso on this. Try to relax, especially your glutes.” He showed her the leather loops attached to the front legs. “Put your wrists through these, so you don’t reach back. If I have to, I’ll restrain you. If I strike your wrists with the paddle, you could be hurt.”

  She sashayed over to the bench and mounted it with provocative poise. She should be confident. She was fucking gorgeous. Kneeling exposed her pussy in all its gli
stening glory, her plump and separated folds revealing the pinkness inside. Between sassy cheeks blooming with freshly spanked color, her puckered rosebud issued a tempting invitation. He wanted to fuck her mouth, her cunt. Her ass. In that order. Wash up and start all over again.

  He tapped her thigh with the paddle. “Spread your legs more.”

  She scooted her legs as wide as they would go.

  “Good girl.”

  Her murmur of pleasure shot to his cock. There would be no retreat. He settled his hand on one naked shoulder and swept it over her spine, a globe of her ass, her thigh, and up the inside. From her clit to her opening, he stroked until her body rocked against his marauding fingers and little whimpers escaped her mouth.

  “You’re not allowed to come yet. If you do, I’ll spank you harder and longer.” Delaying gratification would make her climax all the more intense.

  She moaned. “I’ll try, sir.”

  He slid two digits into her sheath. So wet, she tempted him to lube a finger in her moisture and penetrate her back hole, too. But washing wasn’t convenient, and he had much more playing planned.

  I should have taken her home. He hadn’t counted on a “drink” progressing to this. Oh, the lies he told himself.

  He wiped wet fingers on her ass.

  “Are you drawing a target?”

  “Cheeky!” He smacked one impertinent globe. She yelped, and he laughed.

  He applied a dozen hand slaps before picking up the paddle to lay a firm swat center cheek. She gasped. Before she could recover her breath, he struck the other side.

  With a fast rhythm, he chastised her bottom. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth one, she caught her breath and mewled. Between the tenth and eleventh, she howled and reared up but clung to the leather loops and remained on the bench. Arousal spilled from her pussy. He had a strong hunch he could paddle her to orgasm.

  He landed a couple of strokes to the crease of her buttocks and thigh. She gave a little shriek. “Oh God, stop, Jordan, stop please.”