(well when I wasn't drooling)
(Let's face it he is immensely droolable over)
The Sven sessions…
Now anyone who knows me, also knows I
fell in love with Sven a long time ago. Around the same time he met Sylvia in
fact. So when Doris asked me if I'd like to celebrate her new release, The
Housewife and the Film Star, I said only if I can interview Sven—alone.
(Sylvia trusts I'll just ogle from
afar…well not too far.)
So here he is, and here I am, and you
know I've even not got Budda this time. I can't have distractions
clears throat Er before we start, would you mind
opening the window please? It's a bit warm in here.
He grins oh that grin
And does as I ask. I do my best not to drool,
but that man has the perfect… coughs, erm well, thank you Sven.
So Sven, sorry if the first few questions
are somewhat inane, but Mrs. Robinson asked me to ask them. Well it was that or
threaten to confiscate her stepladder!
laughs
Knowing Mrs. R. I can well
believe that. Just as well I have a soft spot for her.
First off, what does your name mean?
Sorry I did say the first few were inane.
I can honestly say I've
never been asked this one before. Sven comes from the old Norse and means Young Warrior. Mamma and Papa picked it
as I was a little fighter, apparently. They had fertility problems and… he
pauses and grows pensive Well, let's just say, I almost didn't make it.
What do you like and hate about your
career.
I hate the publicity stunts
we're expected to pull, and the intrusion into one's private life. Just because
I choose to make my living pretending to be someone else (that's the fun part) laughs
doesn't give anyone the right to stick their nose into my private affairs.
They're just that—private!
Where would your ideal best ever location
be?
Close to home so that I can
go and see Sylvia and the kids at the end of the day. Sadly she can't travel,
as the kids are at school.
Which side of the bed do you prefer?
The left.
Red wine or white?
White
Do you have any irritating habits? that's
not one of mine, he is perfect
I'm
sure I have plenty. You'd have to ask Sylvia. smirks
I
do like to be in control and I don't suffer fools gladly. Apparently I'm also
far too cheerful in the mornings, and I may or not have a thing about ironed
socks…
Did you really think Sylvia was 'the one'
when you first saw her?
No, that would be silly.
That so-called notion of instant love is just lust. Nothing wrong with that, of
course. I thought she was fucking hot when I first saw her. She intrigued me.
What was your initial reaction?
Instant hard on.
Smiles
drools
On a serious note she
intrigued me. Then she infuriated me, but there was something about her. It
just pulled me in, and the more I got to know her… well, yeah, she got me.
How did you decide to introduce your
dominant side to her? Was it easy?
No, it wasn't easy. I'd
sworn off my dominant side to be honest, but Sylvia's submissiveness just
called to me. We worked on it slowly with many a trigger along the way. With
Sylvia's past I knew I had to tread carefully. I also knew she needed help to
heal, and we got there in the end.
he scowls and balls his hands into fists
Let's just say the bastard
she was married to is lucky that he was dead already. I'd have taken great
delight in re-arranging his features and make him eat his balls. shudder,
glad I'm on his good side
Did the existence of Hard Head make what
followed harder or easier. (I'm not talking about the wheezing and bruising?)
laughs and covers his balls
Skit, I'd thought he'd broken me there for a while. After that
introduction the only way was up, really. He made it easier to get to Sylvia,
and yeah, I may have exploited the fact that we instantly got on to get his
mother into my bed…
All's fair in love and war,
right? He's a great kid. Any man would be proud to be his step dad.
Now quick fire one, (well okay two or
three) word answers. I want the first thing that comes into your head when I
say.
Silk or satin
On Sylvia? Neither, I
prefer her naked. smiles
that sinful grin
If you're talking
bedcovers, silk.
Ribbon or rope
Rope evil grin
Chocolate or cheese
Chocolate only when
dribbled on… winks
Otherwise cheese
Summer or winter
Winter
Mrs. Robinson
Delightfully nosy neighbour
preens
Grandma's
rock
Ice cream
Mixed
Children
Life changing
Now please describe yourself in 10 words
Actor, husband, Dom,
father, son, brother, good with my hands
grins
And Sylvia the same
Beautiful, generous,
submissive, strong, mother, passionate, honest, caring, sexy, and the love of
my life. Yeah, I know that's more than ten. Deal with it.
And me… no I don't mean that
laughs Are you flirting with me,
Raven? You should know by now I'm a one woman man these days. If I didn't have
Sylvia, however…
Er Can you open the wind… oh I've asked
that, oh sod it, just do a twirl…
drools
bends over Raven's hand and
kisses it with a wink
swoon
It was my pleasure, my dear.
****
Blurb:
When international movie
star Sven Larsson meets young widowed mom of three, Sylvia, the sexual
chemistry between them is instant and explosive—and plastered all over the
papers. Sven needs to repair his damaged reputation. The last thing he needs is
another scandal, but the Dom in him can't resist the challenge Sylvia
represents.
Having survived an abusive
marriage, Sylvia is not looking for another relationship, let alone a kinky one
with a man of Sven's reputation. Her submissive side can't help but be drawn to
him, especially once she gets to know the man behind the public image. She
can't help but fall in love with the private, broken Sven—even if he doesn't do
love.
With the paparazzi breathing
down their necks at every turn, and past demons raising their ugly heads, will
they ever be able to find happiness?
Be Warned: BDSM,
anal sex, sex toys, spanking
Excerpt:
George
finally stopped the car, and before Sylvia could determine where they were,
Sven produced a blindfold out of nowhere.
He tied the thing over her head, and forestalled any protest she might
have uttered with a heart-stopping kiss.
"No
peeking now." Sven's low voice in her ear, one arm ‘round her waist, was
the strongest aphrodisiac ever. Sylvia was sure she would simply dissolve into
a puddle of drool were he not holding her up. The cool night air skittered
across her heated skin, and the gentle sounds of lapping water made her wonder
where they were.
Her heart
leapt in her throat, not from fear but anticipation. She could never be afraid
when Sven was holding her so carefully. The whispered conversation with George
in Swedish was interspersed with laughter, whilst she leaned against the Jag,
desperately trying to control her breathing and telling the sensible side of
her brain to fuck off. She was done with being sensible, and, whatever happened
over this weekend, she was going to meet it head on.
"Bye,
Sylvia." George's laughter made her wave her hand in the general direction
of his voice, and then she was back in Sven's arms. His by now familiar scent
wrapped itself round all her female senses.
"Ready?"
"No."
She couldn't
stop the squeaky protest of her last remaining sensible brain cells escaping,
and his answering amused chuckle in her ear had heat rising in her cheeks.
"Trust
me?"
Did she trust
him? Now that was one hell of a question. The tenseness of his arms matched the
tremor in his voice.
"Baby?
We won't do anything you don't want to do, I can promise you that. I can call
George back right now if you've changed your mind."
The heat of
his body surrounded her like a physical caress and stoked the fire in her belly
to flashpoint as he waited for her answer. Everything seemed to be heightened
in those few moments. The sounds of the water, the creak of ropes, the breeze
that lifted the hem of her skirt, and Sven's heavy breathing, as his hands
skimmed across her back and up to her neck to tilt her head up. Feather light
kisses whispered across her face, and his warmth surrounded her. The only place
their bodies touched was his hands and his lips on her skin as he murmured in
Swedish in-between kisses, and she couldn't help the sigh of delicious
anticipation as her body relaxed into the sensations assaulting her.
"I
should warn you, though. I have every intention of convincing you that you need
to stay with me, and, once I get inside you, I shall not let you go. I'm going
to fuck you so hard you'll be hoarse from screaming my name."
The growled
words zeroed straight to her core and left a trail of fire in their place. Not
caring where they were anymore, she groped blindly until her fingertips
connected with the cotton of his shirt. Bunching the thin material in her
fists, she pulled him toward her until her breasts were pressed flat against
his shirt, and she could feel his thundering heartbeat match her own.
"I
haven't changed my mind, Sven. Please I want you inside me now."
"Thank
fuck for that, baby, and hold onto me."
Before she
could draw another breath, he lifted Sylvia against him. Her dress rose up high
as she automatically locked her legs around his hips. One shoe clattered to the
ground, and the cool breeze on her exposed backside hitched her own arousal
even higher. Sven rushed to carry her indoors. Every bounce against him brought
her wet and aching pussy in direct contact with the rock-hard erection
straining through his jeans. The friction his movements created against her
clit brought her closer and closer to another release, and her hips moved
against him of their own accord, whilst she whimpered her need into his
shoulder.
A door banged
shut behind them, and Sven's vicious curse rumbled through her. He pinned her
against a wall, and his body held her up, his hands stilling her hips.
"Don't
you dare go without me, Sylvia, not until my cock is in you, filling you,
making you mine. I want that tight cunt of yours squeezing my cock this
time."
Sylvia
almost screamed as his hand found her slick folds and ripped her knickers clean
off. Her need to get herself closer to those clever fingers overwhelmed her
completely. Her needful whimpers hung in the air between them as Sven probed
her entrance. He stretched her, and his mouth found hers. His tongue mimicked
his fingers as she once again hovered on that painful edge.
A nip of
teeth on her lips made her groan in frustration at the loss of his fingers.
"Sven,
please, I need…"
"What,
lady, what do you need … this?"
A hard
thrust of his still-clothed cock had her bite in his shoulder, helpless with
the need to have him inside of her. God, what was happening to her? This
wild creature begging him to fill her wasn't her, was it? But she was going to
explode if he didn't do something, anything.
"Give
me a minute to get out of these fucking trousers."
The loss of
his body felt like a physical ache. Every atom in her body craved his touch,
his scent, fuck, just him, and she helplessly squeezed her thighs together,
intensifying the ache only he could fill. Time went agonizingly slowly as she
listened to the rustle of clothing, accentuated by their heavy breathing until
the rip of foil raised her anticipation to fever pitch again.
Yes, please
yes…
He gripped
her thighs with his strong hands, and spread her wide. With Sven's agonized
growl in her ear he lifted her against the blessed wall again, and his cock
nudged her entrance.
"God,
you're so wet, so ready, baby. I wanted to take this slow, but I can't. Fuck, I
want you so much."
****
Author Bio:
Glutton for
punishment would be a good description for Doris... at least that's what she
hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of
nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too
small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very
understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is
always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript
and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to
the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their
stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular
basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to
spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and
heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to
F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
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